Once and Again
by mars494
Summary: AU, MA, Challenge. Max experiences a different, and more painful, childhood. Alec and Max were separated after the unit's escape. At a young age, Max is taken in by an unlikely family, which leads her back to Alec. Though, it's never that simple for Max.
1. Duo

**ONCE AND AGAIN – CHAPTER ONE**

**Summary**

AU, MA, Challenge. Ben never existed, Alec escaped with his best friend, Max, instead. Separated for over a decade, Max and Alec meet up again after Alec begins dating Max's 'sister', Rachel Berrisford.

**Disclaimer**

Written for fun, not profit. I own nothing but my horrible writing skills. The idea isn't even mine. Thanks to the awesome CC for the challenge. Oh and don't sue me!

**Author's Note**

Challenge from DAchallenges LJ community. There is a heavy plot in this one, everything counts. Written to assume that the 09er's were 'made' in 2000 and Rachel was born in 2002. Any objections? Suggestions? Let me know. By the way, I have _NO_ idea why I started another chapter fic. Gosh…

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**Manticore Research Facility, Gillette, Wyoming, 2009. **

"Eyes front, soldier!" the drill instructor shouted angrily at the kid before him.

She whipped her spiky-haired head back to face him and eradicated her sneaky smile to instead wear an impassive mask.

The D.I. shot a warning glare to a light-haired boy beside her, and the soldier straightened his back, showing he understood the message.

As the superior began to pace in front of the large group of attentive, young soldiers, he decided the actions he had just ceased were out of hand and he would take today's drills up a notch.

He smirked inwardly as his plans for the kids fell into place.

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452 collapsed onto her bunk, tired from the day behind her. It was only a small after-effect considering the drills she and her unit had run today. They spent hours on sparring drills and 452 wouldn't be surprised if she woke up with purple bruises over her body tomorrow. It seemed to get worse as the days passed and 452 found her only way to make it through was to simply persevere, with the help of her unit- her family. Her fellow Unit 2 members were not really her siblings but they hadn't had it any other way, hadn't had any others and didn't _need_ any others.

452 knew she was a good soldier, she knew it and she liked to be rewarded for it. Manticore always seemed to be harsher with her unit and it always made her question if it was because they were better or worse. Lydecker seemed to think they were the best. 452 held pride knowing this and it was a motivation, aside from her friends, to push herself and show her skills.

Her companion was staring out the window, admiring the night sky.

"494?" she spoke in a small voice.

"Hmm?" he replied, still seeming to be inattentive, but obediently meeting her gaze nonetheless.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just…"—he paused, thinking over his words and continued—"you know how 599 always talks about life outside the walls? The city and beyond?"

"Yeah…" She remembered all the conversations Unit 2 had had about that life. They all had crazy ideas about what might be out there and if they would ever get to see it.

When 494 didn't continue as she expected, 452 frowned, before capturing his attention with a wide grin.

"What?" He couldn't help but smile back at her.

"Did you mean it when you said you'd marry me?"

He chuckled and walked over to join her on the cot. "Yeah, and maybe we could live out there," he proposed, indicating with an outstretched arm pointing towards the window.

"Promise?"

"Of course, 452. You're my best friend. Ever since you saved my back on that escape-and-evade mission. Ever since we broke all those X5 records together. Have I ever broken my promises?"

She smiled and shook her head.

"_And_ we'll bring all of them with us!" he said with a flick of his head towards the other room where the rest of their unit was.

It was a promise, a glimmer of hope and no matter what Manticore cramped into their brains; this was what would really save them. Not standard weaponry or hand-to-hand combat but simple, honest love.

Almost like he knew someone was talking about him, 599 sauntered into the room.

"It's nearly light's out. Get ready," the C.O. stated.

"Hey 599?" 494 said.

"Yeah?"

"Tell us about the city."

Smiling, 599 sat down on the opposite bunk from his best friends and told them about the life that he dreamt of and the life he wished he could give to his unit. His listeners gaped in amazement and hope, as they always did, and added in their own opinions and ideas.

"What do you two think of going out there?" 599 suggested carefully. The idea had been haunting him for a while now.

494 and 452 were taken back.

"Going out there?" 452 spoke in confusion for the both of them.

"Yeah. _Escaping_."

The two other transgenics gasped at the thought such a crime and 599 immediately knew he'd made a mistake. A Commanding Officer shouldn't be proposing such acts, and here he was, the only one giving in to the scheme of betraying the only home they'd known.

"Forget I said anything," he covered.

Before 494 or 452 could reply, the rest of Unit 2 returned to the sleeping dorm on cue.

They assumed their sleeping positions in their bunks and each lay awake in different musings.

599 couldn't help thinking about this exciting idea. The idea of being more than a soldier. He wanted his friends to experience it too; he wanted to live it and live it now.

"We should have names," he blurted out.

"Names?" the brown-haired 210 questioned.

"Yeah, we _are_ people. We should have names!" 599 sat up, getting even more thrilled.

"Well how do we pick?" asked 452's only genetic sibling, 471.

"Simple. Think of something, or someone you like. Something you're good at."

Half an hour later, almost the entire unit had named themselves. Their C.O. was first to pick, choosing 'Zack'. 656 chose Tinga, 766 liked Eva, 417 was now Jack, 205 was Zane, 471 now Krit, 701 chose Syl, 798 was named Jace, 734 chose Brin and lastly, 210 chose Jace.

That left the troublesome twosome of 494 and 452.

"Fi-Zack! I can't choose a name!" 452 stressed from the other side of the room.

"Well…"

"Max," 494 said, making a decision and then explained himself. "'Cause you're always taking it to the _max_ and bringing out the _maximum_ greatness in everyone around you."

"Smart-aleck." 452 rolled her eyes. "But a great choice!" She smiled in approval.

"Max," Zack tried it out. "Nicely picked." He hated complimenting 494 sometimes; they were best friends, but ultimately, rivals. Always competing for the position as alpha male.

"And that leaves me. Just great," drawled the sarcastic blonde.

"Alec!" Max chose.

"What?"

"The resident smart-aleck. Therefore your name is Alec!"

He paused. "I can live with that." He smirked charmingly and laid his head to rest on the pillow again. "Alec," he whispered to himself a minute later.

"Zack, _Alec_, Tinga, Brin, Jace, Eva, Jondy, Syl, Krit, Zane, Jack and _Max_," Max cheered, putting emphasis on the name she had picked and the one picked for her.

Zack smiled before falling into a peaceful slumber. He felt confident in the direction he, as C.O., was leading his unit in. They were a lot closer than the other X5 units – everyone knew it so. However, they were also the best, which meant he was doing something right.

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It had been only a few days since Jack died. Max kept going back to the last moment she saw him. It had become a movement to Zack. The idea of a rebellion against Manticore now had even more reasoning. They had killed him. That was not taken lightly by the unit and Zack assured his friends that this would not go by without a sound.

And some sound it made.

They had been planning an escape but not intently, not thoroughly enough for them to feel prepared. However, as Eva held that gun, overpowering Manticore and defending her unit, Zack knew it was time. Unit 2 was escaping.

They were now in the snowy woods, running for their lives. They stopped at a point of safety and Zack used decided to do the unexpected and lead his team his way.

He used his military hand signals to express his plan and say goodbye.

"Tinga and Brin. Syl and Krit. Jondy and Zane. Alec and Max. Jace and Myself. These are the pairs, you know what to do. Escape and evade. Do not look back; do not attempt to contact anyone else. Stick as a pair."

The nine soldiers nodded, paired off and headed their separate ways. Never to return to the confinement of Manticore. They were free.

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**Somewhere Outside of Wyoming.**

They had been on the run for days, coming close to being captured several times. Max and Alec had been trained to do this and excelled in similar missions back at Manticore. However, the two had never been outside the barracks. They didn't have a real sense of direction or meaning. If it weren't for their transgenic skills, they'd be dead by now.

The transgenic pair knew they looked odd. They had been receiving questioning glares from members of the public. Unsure of how to stop themselves from being singled out, they simply decided to steal some clothes. It helped slightly to be roaming the streets alone and _not_ look like they'd run away from a hospital.

Max couldn't be happier to be paired with her best friend and she knew it was hard for Zack to let go of her. He and Max had a special friendship, like a big brother and younger sister. She knew Zack didn't take to Alec well, he'd told her several times. Now, she was out in the big wide world, unable to appreciate or compare the new scenery to what the two of them had speculated together.

The streets were heavily crowded. People around them were wearing ratty clothes and didn't look at all clean. Hence, the transgenics _really_ stood out.

A few people had approached them, offering items for money and the two simply shook their heads and walked on by. The city had a smoky ambiance, laced in with a fishy aroma. The buildings were storeys high above their heads and the paths were narrow.

Max was following Alec's lead when she felt someone knock into her from behind. She rotated around to see what had happened.

A tall man, greying on top, had smiled at her and apologised by raising his hand.

She nodded and turned back to continue after Alec. Her gaze searched for his blonde head. Alas, to no avail. Immediately she panicked. As she whirled around, she checked in case he was on her other side. But he wasn't.

"Alec?!" she called, close to tears and choking on her breath.

Max ran through the crowd of tall adults, running into several bags and boxes, searching for her best friend.

"Alec!" she cried again. No response. He was gone. She was alone.

Max ran around for a good half hour before giving in and sitting on the path of a street that was less busy.

A woman noticed the distressed girl and walked over to comfort her. Putting a hand on her shoulder, the woman saw Max flinch at the touch. As the young transgenic raised her head to look at the person, she wondered if Alec had found her. Her face sunk in disappointment as she saw the short, plump woman.

"I'm fine," Max assured, her voice humble and fragile.

"Are you alone?" the woman asked after a minute-long pause.

Max nodded as another hot tear raced down her cheek.

"Come with me." The woman put out her hand.

In desperate need of comfort, she forgot about any of the risks and took the woman's hand.

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It took a while before the woman got enough details about the young girl to progress from where they were. The woman's name was Margaret and she was, oddly enough, a social worker. She had taken Max back to her apartment and vowed to find a good foster home for her to be taken into.

Max mumbled, answering Margaret's questions except for when she asked for her name. She refused to include any part that involved Alec or Manticore. Instead, Margaret named her Sam.

"I can't just call you 'girl', now can I?" She smiled and picked up her phone.

Lost in her disappointed thoughts, Max was ignorant to Margaret's doings.

She sipped at the hot chocolate the woman had made her. She had failed her only mission. She had lost Alec.

She already missed him too much. The way he would wrap his arms around her small body and kiss the top of her head when something was wrong. The missions they partnered up in and always won. Any hope of sharing these moments with him again was gone and Max could do nothing but cry.

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	2. Pain

**A/N: **Thanks to the handy map of the United States I got off the 'net. I had no idea where the states in this television show were! Another vital resource in my fan fiction! So, I hadn't even heard of Idaho Falls –until now! I have no clue if it's an appropriate city but this post-pulse anyhow! This chapter is quite dark, well at least I've tried to make it so you can feel the pain for yourself! Enjoy, if you can…

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A few days after meeting Margaret, Max was assigned to a foster home. She was informed of her new 'family' on the long trip there. So far Max knew: there was already another adopted girl living in the home and she was only just younger than Max; her new foster parents were Gary and Patti Hanson, a couple unable to conceive their own children and who, therefore, turned to adoption as a path to start their family.

When Max arrived at the small home in Western Idaho, she didn't feel the way she expected to at the sight of her new home. It was a real, family-based home, so why was Max uneasy about it?

No, it wasn't the appearance – completely. It was a small, poorly built, cream house with a white-painted picket fence in need of replacing. The fence was shorter than Max and made a horrible creaky sound when you unhinged the gate. The windows accentuated brokenness, with fractures zigzagging down the glass and the wooden door stood tall with its main fault being the sticky-feeling, hard-to-work doorknob. No, in a Post-Pulse world, Max wasn't expecting to _see_ a mansion, let alone live in one, but this reeked of something _below _lower class.

But, to Max, it didn't matter. A home was a home. It was the _home_ part that mattered not the _house_ part.

Max noticed that something was off as she stared at her new residence. She sensed a certain darkness about the place and her suspicious feelings were only heightened when she met her new 'family'.

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**Hanson Residence, Idaho Falls, Idaho. **

Max sat on her solid bed, trembling. Her body moved the bunk beneath her crossed legs as she shivered in fear. It was hard enough considering her situation, but even harder as a transgenic being only fresh in the world. This kind of fear was new and horrifying. It daunted Max as she found a weakness in the perfection she had only recently seen as freedom.

It wasn't seizures. It was a genuine shaking, coursing through her body. Controllable, yet Max was blank. Manticore was awful, depressing and horrific, indeed, but a completely different set of circumstances to this.

A shrill scream came from down the hall, a few rooms away from Max's. Max could feel the pain in her cry and it hurt more than any of the physical wounds beaten upon her body. Knowing what Lucy was going through. The images, of what she knew was happening to her foster-sister, were flashing through her mind. The hurt she knew Lucy was undertaking made Max's own purple bruises throb.

The only thing blocking her out from this horrible world was the memories of the world she previously lived in and Max wasn't sure which one was worse.

_You engage an adversary only if it is consistent with the overall strategic objective. Failing that, you will initiate a tactical withdrawal._

Her drill sergeant's words were playing on repeat through her brain and it made her ears ache, even though she couldn't physically hear his stern voice.

Max finally blinked and moved her tiny body beneath the cold, thin and unwashed sheets of her bed, in hope of stopping the shivering. As her head dropped down to sink into the pillow, Max found a small comfort from the light feathers beneath her head and a single, burning tear trickled down her battered face.

It could have been a common feeling for someone from Manticore. A transgenic, who had been to hell and back, may have not seemed like they would break so easily. But Max didn't see any shades of grey in this situation. It was meant to be a home, a family, but all it had become was pain. A dark, agonizing pain that wretched through Max's body and tickled the pit of her stomach so she felt like she would soon topple over and heave.

Another cry escaped from the other room and a slam of the door told Max Lucy would be returning to her room. It was Max's turn now. The footsteps drew closer.

_Tap_, _tap_,_ tap_…

The handle turned and the door screeched as it released.

"Sam…" a bitter voice called from the doorway.

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Max's eyes fluttered open, reluctantly. Her black eye stung at the movement and Max winced in pain. It had been only three weeks living with the Hanson's and it felt like eternities more to Max. Her saving grace being the only person that understood this situation, Lucy. Lucy was the sweetest girl Max had ever met. She wasn't like any of the other girls at Manticore, including Max. The transgenics had a lot more guts and were certainly not as innocent. Lucy never said much but Max understood what people meant about "lighting up a room" when the younger girl smiled. For a little girl, she really shone.

Max felt the enormous weight of emotions resting on her shoulders at the present time. It was too much for a nine-year-old. While she learnt a lot faster and worked a lot harder than most kids her age, she was still much younger at heart. After all, she had experienced little on the outside.

It had to all begin and end with pain. And while she may have been covered head-to-toe in bruises and grazes handed to her from her abusive foster father, most of the pain Max carried was in her heart.

It also came back to Alec. Max tried her honest hardest to not think about him. She did, however, make a wish that he were safe and happy wherever he was every night before she went to sleep. Max felt burdened by the hurt of losing Alec, so naturally, relief came graciously at the thought that he was doing better than her.

More anguish came with the memories of Manticore and all the other Xs Unit 2 had left behind. She knew she could never go back there. But what had she left?

Then there was guilt. Aside from losing Alec, Max was remorseful about Lucy. Lucy was an angel, and in Max's eyes was magical for an 'ordinary'. Whenever she thought she should get up and stop Gary from hurting Lucy, she heard her horrible drill sergeant preaching Manticore lessons about what not to do. So she'd sit back down and shake in fear and regret.

Regret. That's another story too. Max regretted a lot. Should she have escaped from Manticore in the first place? Was Zack right to lead his unit in the abandonment of the best home they could get right now? They were only nine anyway. Max knew she couldn't tell anyone her 'secret'. Not even Lucy.

Ah, another lesson that plagued Max's mind, even though no drill sergeant educated his soldiers about what to do after you escape from Manticore.

Thereby, if no one in the outside world could know about Max, how was she supposed to survive? Maybe that was one good thing about Manticore. It was all about being transgenic and they knew how to shelter the animal-genetic children.

It didn't mean Max felt like she should go running back to the facility. It meant Max was only a kid. A kid who'd lost her only home and her only family in an attempt to save herself. And now she'd lost another chance at family. So really, it wasn't the physical abuse that oppressed Max; it was the ongoing emotions that ran in tiny circles through her head that were driving her insane at the mere age of nine.

The physical abuse was something else. Max didn't really grasp the concept of what her foster father was doing to her and Lucy at first. However, in the cold, late hours of the night, when Max and Lucy were alone, Max realized what a terrible fate they were in for.

Max wondered if one day, he'd go too far and kill one of them. If she weren't genetically engineered she wouldn't be able to cope. So how could Lucy survive this hell? How could an ordinary girl, younger than Max, deal in this kind of situation? It was hard enough for the lifeless Max, so _how did Lucy cope_?

Max shook her head in an attempt to shake out all the confusing questions and haunting emotions that ran inside it. She used her genetically enhanced vision to inspect her room, a routine habit.

It was simply empty. With nothing but the ratty bed and ageing, wooden bedside table, Max wouldn't call it any young girl's dream bedroom. It wasn't like she was used to anything more though.

Her exceptional hearing picked up on the faint sound of Lucy snoring. It wasn't so much snoring as a cute breathing noise. Max sighed in relief, glad to know she was okay.

It was peaceful at this hour and things could pass as normal to the naked eye. That's why Max was thankful for her shark DNA; it gave her the time and opportunity to pretend.

She could pretend she wasn't like a sponge drained of all its water contents due to her crying. She could pretend that Alec and Unit 2 were with her and they were having a big sleepover, like at Manticore but for normal children. She could pretend that everything in her life didn't hurt.

However, come sunrise, the pretending game would finish and Max would go back to hell. How she loved the latent hours…

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A few nights later, in the early and _safe_ hours, Lucy tiptoed into Max's room for a late-night talk. She was careful not to make any loud noises as she opened the big door and joined Max on the rock-hard bed.

"I wanna get out of here," Max whispered. She had realized that running, escaping and evading, was something she _was_ made to and something she would be doing for years to come. She had to face the facts and the sooner she did, the sooner she could find something better.

"G-get out of here?" Lucy stuttered, not comprehending. She'd never considered such an act, being so young and helpless. Having Max around changed things though. The number of bruises welted on her body had decreased and the number of smiles had increased. Lucy could only thank the heavens above for her recent luck.

"I've come up with a plan. We could be safe…out there." Max smiled reassuringly, offering the same kind of hope Zack and Alec had given her in Manticore.

Lucy shook her head. "I can't…they'd come after me. They'd hurt me. But you can escape…you could get out the next time I'm in there." Lucy's face lit up at the idea of helping Max get out.

"No, we could get you out too," Max tried. Her stomach was suddenly sinking and her hopes rose and fell in a confused bundle.

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**A/N:** Have already started writing some more but had to leave it there! Please let me know what you think. It helps so much and my muse is a bitch if she doesn't get reviews! Ha..I hope I'm only kidding! But please review and I'll update soon. Oh, I'm so tired…Listen to me!


	3. Run

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Gary was with Lucy down the hall, as they took 'turns' every few days. Though sometimes when he would finish with Lucy, he'd come looking for Max to let the rest of his anger out on.

Max didn't tell Lucy she was leaving today. She hadn't intended on running away but something told Max that today was it.

Max now sported the infamous Manticore-mask she'd perfected over the years. She had been out of Manticore for only a few months, so there was no way she would be able to immediately act like a normal kid. Max didn't want to regard herself as a soldier. She could hear Zack almost yelling at her and telling her this is why they had escaped from Gillette. She shook her head, hoping to shake away her remorseful thoughts as well.

The X5 stealthily crept down into the lounge room and spotted her target. Knowing no one could see or hear her. She moved in and progressed her plan. She was almost done. She was almost liberated. The excitement flowed through her body in a shiver and she quickly snapped out of it.

A punch square in the middle of Patti's face, surely breaking her nose, knocked her out. Max didn't know for certain because she was already out the door before the old lady could open her mouth to scream or collapse to the ground.

Then she ran. She ran to release her depression, her insanity, and mainly, her anger. She ran so far that no one could ever associate her with Sam Hanson. Max shuddered at the name and opting for a distraction, finally slowed to get some food.

She hoped that she was heading in the right direction. She didn't want to head back to Wyoming, but maybe she could go see Margaret.

She was free now. After weeks of pain, she was free. And alone. Very alone.

Max calmed her hype at the thought as a cold breeze ignited around her, giving her goosebumps. She sat down on the cement, wishing she could have her unit mates guide her in the right direction. How would she know where to go now? Was Manticore close? What were the other escapees doing? How much longer would she be alone for?

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**Somewhere North of Salt Lake City, Utah, 2009.**

_She took a few more steps, approaching an enticing door down the hallway. As she pushed it further open, the room's light blinded her sight and more of the room was revealed. _

_When she could finally assess the bedroom, everything fell into place as she saw a greying man standing tall and angry over a frail, brown-haired girl._

_The girl lay motionless, sprawled across the cold floor. Her light skin was tainted black-and-blue with throbbing bruises. _

_The man's profile showed a fuming, predatory expression as his large arm rose threateningly. Noticing the attention diversion of his victim, he turned and his face cringed at the intruder before turning into a dirty smirk. _

Max awoke, screaming for her life, from the horrific nightmare. Her screaming continued until she took in her surroundings and remembered where she was and how she got there. The empty home was well…_empty_. She had slept on her shoes and used her coat as a blanket.

There was so much surrounding Max that she needed to confront, mainly her own future. She surely didn't want to go to another foster home but the loneliness was taking its toll on Max.

Every night she was haunted with a nightmare. Always about what she thought the people she had lost were doing: Lucy being beaten to death by Gary; Alec on his own, being recaptured by Manticore; Jondy being bought off and shipped overseas. The part daunting Max the most was the reality in each dream. It could _actually_ be happening. It made her shudder in disgust.

She was only nine. She shouldn't have to think about any of this, let alone confront it head-on. That was the price of being born in a test tube.

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**Office in Manticore Facility, Gillette, Wyoming.**

"Yes, yes. I'm not an incomprehensive five-year-old!" a stressed man bellowed into his cell phone.

"_That's debatable_," a serious voice retorted from the other side of the phone and into the man's ear.

Angered even more at the statement and the calmness in the other person's voice, he remained silent, hoping to better the situation, even in the slightest.

"_You know that the Committee's angry at your near miss on 452's foster home. If this doesn't pan out, you'll be too far into the bad books for anyone to save._"

"Did I not mention my comprehension?" he gritted through his teeth.

"_Easy, Deck, I'm not the enemy._"

He stifled a laugh. "Ha! Now _that's_ debatable!"

The voice, still awfully calm, ignored the comment. "_Bye, Deck._"

Colonel Lydecker closed the phone and slammed his hand down on his desk in frustration, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his clenched fist. His eyes squeezed shut as his psychological pain outweighed the action.

When he opened his eyes again, he raised his head, feeling the frustration flood his insides as he stared at the pictures of the Unit 2 soldiers, stuck on his wall. The pictures had been taken not long before the escape and Lydecker wondered if his kids had been planning the rebellion at that time.

He raised his tired hand to rub his even more tired, drooping eyes. He had been working overtime since the escape and it was wearing him out more than ever. Lydecker was sure he had never been this stressed since…Greta was murdered.

His beautiful wife had been killed 25 years ago and he had never moved on. After all, they were ready to have kids and had planned a future just before she died, which threw him off track completely. Her death had led to everything Lydecker was today – a colonel, a strong man…and an alcoholic. He'd been clean for a while but the temptations were soaring high after this new stress. He raised his weathered hand higher to glide through his short hair, searching for more, if any, relief.

They had a lead. The kids, despite being well-educated soldiers, were still kids and didn't know how to stay off the radar. Thereby, tracking them down was not the hard part – it was the capturing. He had been training them for years on tactics and moves to evade enemies and, not to mention, eliminate them. But never had the idea of the moves being used against him posed to Lydecker.

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**Northwestern Oregon, 2010.**

It had been one year since the escape. Max still hadn't found anyone from Manticore, unit or staff, over the time. Even if it was a bad ending, Max was searching for some closure. Lying awake at night, unable to sleep, even if she was _actually_ tired, wondering about all the others.

Since escaping from the Hansons', Max had grown up a lot and adapted to the world around her a lot better. She had been city hopping, meeting new people with different stories and learning to not let herself get attached. She couldn't fight the memories, the traits that now lay inside her. Max was still a soldier, yes, but at least she wasn't 452 anymore. She had changed.

Formerly living a life on the run, Max had finally settled in Oregon, where a cheap shelter had been set up. Many people from the city nested in the safe home, which kept Max from standing out.

Tonight, on the one-year anniversary of leaving Manticore, Max decided it was time to move on to the next city. She had attached herself long enough and she knew she had to move along eventually. She didn't have any friends, so there was no one to say goodbye to and no one to even notice she'd left. Even though it hurt, Max knew it was for the best, for her own safety and for the safety of everyone else.

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**A/N: **I wish there was more to this chapter but there's nothing much to tell about this period of her life. The next chapter will be longer- promise! Please review and I'll update soon:)


	4. Stop

**Spokane, Eastern Washington, 2010.**

As a small, tanned hand reached into a stranger's pocket, Max held her breath to prevent herself from snickering. She had become an incredibly talented pickpocket over the past year; her transgenic abilities allowing her speed, accuracy and swift hand movements.

After city hopping constantly since escaping from the foster home, Max had made rules about the time and movements when in one city. For example, she would only stay in one city for two weeks.

Even though Max would be looking over her shoulder her whole life, she had devised a new way of living that protected her and ensured she would never land back in those barracks again.

Her sleepless nights in abandoned houses, and sometimes even just the streets, had only made her loneliness through the day seem better. At least people surrounded her during the day hours. No, the nights were awful because each night her mind would try and make _the_ decision for her body. To decide whether or not she'll sleep; decide whether or not she'll fall into a dreadful nightmare or lie awake in depressing thoughts. Either way, each night brought her closer to lunacy – a path she'd been walking since leaving Manticore, or maybe even earlier.

Max mentally threw a fist into the air in success as her clenched fist withdrew a money clip. This is what she had been waiting for – some upper class Washington snob with a pocket of cash. Score one for the pickpocket.

At least there were some good days. These days were merely acceptable in a line of lonely, oppressing days. Max, however, was optimistic and she knew her lucky star would land soon. Take one day at a time, one day closer to whatever good thing was ahead. This was how Max survived, money clip or not.

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The dying leaves shifted and moved out of their places as a lightweight pair of shoes scampered through the forest. The rustling of the foliage beneath her feet being the only trail she was leaving behind as Max blurred. Her scrawny arms using strong muscle to power her sprint faster and her legs to dash effortlessly, Max didn't actually realise how fast she was moving. The only thought occupying her mind was the extreme need to go faster.

Her breathing hitching as she held back the threatening tears. She couldn't go back, she refused to give in. After all, this was not what they had trained them to do. Yes, they should be pleased with Max's tactics – she had always been a good soldier. The amusing idea had pushed back the tears so Max could concentrate on her running.

A team of soldiers in all-black attire marched through the woods, eventually splitting up to cover the large area. They were zeroing in on the target and matching her speed as they blurred after her. Unit 8 was one of the highly regarded units of the entire X-series and were sent on a retrieval mission to capture a traitorous '09er.

Two soldiers finally had the target surrounded, pointing their guns threateningly, simply daring the traitor to challenge them. X5-327 and 603 nodded at each other before lunging forward at 452. Deciding to ditch the weapons and humour the escapee with a round of hand-to-hand combat (something also preferred by their drill sergeants), the pair threw their best blows at her and she blocked many with equal strength, sending back some forceful hits.

Lucky for Max, she'd picked up some moves of her own on the outside, like the combo she'd memorised from a street-fight she saw. She was smirking as she finally got to use her new, 'dirty' moves. This fresh knowledge earned Max a triumph over the soldiers and she walked away – no, blurred away – feeling proud and mighty, smirk still present.

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Max was additionally cautious after her first real run-in with Manticore. They had obviously been watching her in Eastern Washington. She _almost _felt flattered that they'd sent a whole unit all the way over to Spokane for little ol' Maxie – well, almost. Immediately after leaving the scene in the forest, she'd continued her running and headed southwest in the state.

A week later, Max was in Kennewick, a small city at the very bottom of Washington. After realising the importance of the new moves she'd learnt, Max decided to attend cage fights more often and observe the actions of some real street fighters. Next time Manticore found her, she'd be even better. She promised.

As she blurred into a bar, before any of the drunks could notice, Max found a hiding spot and watched the fight. Some fighters and their moves Max admired, while others made Max feel proud. When the rounds finished, she snuck out swiftly and moved on.

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**A Few Hours South of Seattle, Washington, 2010. **

Max walked down the crowded streets on the early Sunday morning. People of the upper class city were out shopping today, trying to haggle in the post-Pulse world. Max knew she didn't fit in with most of the people, except for maybe the beggars in the gutters and the homeless squatting in the abandoned buildings. She was passing through the city and would stay for a day or two before moving on.

Breaking her out of her deep train of thought, something caught Max's eye, making her hairs stand on end in a warning. Her ears picked up on an increasingly loud sound of a speeding motor vehicle and her eyes focused on the people crossing the roads in front of her.

In a split-second, Max realised that the vehicle wasn't stopping for an older man, crossing the street. Her instincts guiding her swift movements, Max blurred over to the man, pushing him out of the line of fire – ultimately saving his life.

As she dusted herself off and watched the man get to his feet, she saw his widened eyes and shocked expression.

"Young lady, that was amazing. You moved so fast, you saved me from death!" he exclaimed, scooping Max into tender, appreciative hug.

Max froze within the big pair of arms, unused to the affectionate gestures, especially from a stranger. However, Max settled to not push the man off her as she felt a sudden warmth succumb her and a smile spread across her young face.

"How old _are_ you?" he inquired.

"10," she answered humbly.

"What's your name?"

Max paused, unsure of what to do. Shrugging it off, as she knew in five minutes the man would be long gone, she replied, "Sam."

"Sam? Nice to meet you. I'm Robert."

Max smiled.

"Are you alone?"

Max paused again before nodding shyly.

"Completely alone? Where's your family?"

"Don't have one."

The numb look glazing over her eyes made him stop his mental dance of thoughts. Allowing the impulse to push out through his lips, he makes a decision. "We'll have to do something about that then, Sam. After all, you did save my life!"

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Max took small footsteps as a grand door opened, revealing the expensive décor and style of the Berrisford mansion. Robert ushered her in, leaving her in the entrance as she absorbed the magical surroundings. Max had _never_ seen anything like it. It was a palace – clean, tidy and the complete opposite of the constant dull, empty rooms she'd been living in all her life. Her mouth formed an 'o' as she soaked up every feature of the room.

While she walked down a short entrance corridor, she noticed the high ceiling, clean, painted walls and buffed tiled floor. Everything shimmered and radiated money and wealth. Max felt unconventional, like she didn't fit in, and yet here Robert was, taking her in with ease. He didn't know anything about her – and he probably wouldn't want to know.

At the end of the entrance was a grand portrait of a younger Robert Berrisford, with a woman, obviously Mrs. Berrisford, sitting down next to a young girl. The girl would've only been a few years younger than Max.

She continued to observe the furnishings at the T-intersection before following Robert down to the right, opening up to reveal a tall staircase and adjacent doorways off to other rooms.

Robert stopped in front of Max, taking note of her interest in the family painting.

"My wife, Diane, passed away last year," he said sadly, before realising he was talking to a 10-year-old. "And my daughter, Rachel, she's 8, not much younger than you."

Max nodded, unsure of what to say. Noticing him turning away, she expressed her understanding and sympathy.

"I'm sorry about your wife, sir," she said, her voice a mere murmur.

"That's kind of you, Sam." He smiled gratefully and led her into the dining room.

Max didn't know what Robert had planned but she certainly knew she'd like it. His home made her feel warmer, accepted, and his kind words and caring smile defrosted the cold, withdrawn feeling she'd been stuck with for so long.

Later, Robert sat with Max at the dining table. He wanted to know everything about the little girl who'd saved his life. The girl intrigued him. He could read her – the loneliness and fragility was painted across her features, unhidden – but there was something obvious that told him there was a lot to discover about her.

"What happened to your family?" he asked, his voice holding an unfamiliar softness, willingness and understanding. Max was comforted, just as he intended her to be. She knew he was pushing for her to open up and she was going to give in.

"I never knew them. Grew up in an orphanage. Escaped a while ago. Alone ever since," Max answered, conscious of keeping her words and sentences small and concise, as well as unreadable.

"Okay…" Robert said, slightly shell-shocked and fighting to hide it.

Robert mulled over her expressions in his head, wondering what to do next. He debated his words, picking carefully so he wouldn't scare the girl.

"Would you like to stay with me and my family?" he offered.

Max froze. Swallowing visibly, she nodded before her face spread into a wide grin. She could finally trust, trust to have a family and maybe happiness.

Robert was infected by her smile and grinned as he walked over to her small body and enveloped her in a warm hug. His hand holding her head, a mess of short curls being used as her protective cover.

He pushed her back to get a look at the new addition to his family. Max was wearing black pants and a long grey t-shirt. Her face was pale but glowed when she smiled. Her dark hair was uncombed and tangled but complemented her facial features. She was a pretty girl… and now a Berrisford.

"Sam Berrisford? It sounds good," he said, approvingly.

Max's smile widened. _Home_.

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**A/N:** Okay, I promised a longer chapter and I hope this is okay. There are some things I wanted to put in this chapter but fit better next chapter. So that means developing questions will carry over to next chapter, so hold out for me. Let me know what you think know that Berrisford's in the story!


	5. Them

**A/N:** So, I know all of you are excited for Alec's return and seeing Max when she's older but this is actually a Max story, a general AU fic. I'm doing what I can so you can get to the good bits but I don't wanna rush through any of my ideas. That said, enjoy this chapter…

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Max followed Robert up the stairs, lifting her feet slowly as she walked in his shadow. Staring at her feet as she walked after him, Max was lost in her thoughts, still in shock from Robert's offer. Not to mention how excited she was to meet Rachel when she came home. Apparently, she was out with her grandmother. Max didn't know what a grandmother was but made her own conclusions from Robert's words.

He'd shown her around the lavish downstairs rooms, explaining the origin and stories behind some of the gifts, paintings, and furniture. Max was dumbfounded, confused about how this managed to become her home, but nodded politely and giggled at his jokes.

When they got to the guestroom – now, Max's own bedroom – Robert sat her down.

"So, we'll have to buy you some new clothes. Rachel and our housemaid, Paula, should take you for that. We'll have to get you enrolled in school. You have been to school, yes?"

"Thank you, sir, but I can't go to school. My, uh, guardians always said that I was too different to go to school. I can occupy myself during the day, if it's an issue." Max spoke like an intellectual, using full sentences for the first time since meeting Robert.

Robert considered her statement before speaking again. "Well, I won't force you then. You can stay with me through the day."

Max nodded, flashing a small smile at the idea. She watched him stand up and leave the room.

"And don't call me sir." He laughed before leaving.

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Robert sat in his office. Thinking about how he'd go to get adoption papers tomorrow, he wondered: Was this the right thing? Taking in a stranger? Should he be wiser?

Another voice in his head spoke up, reassuring him – because she wasn't a stranger. She was a lonely, innocent, young girl. It would be inhumane to not help. Not to mention that she'd saved his life.

He knew the thought of his daughter provoked him to make the offer. He'd been so close to dying and that reminded him of his dear, late wife. Rachel had quietened and closed off since Diane died. Having a sister would be a joy for Rachel.

Now content with his choice of path, Robert let his nose lead him to the dinner table, smelling Paula's delicious roast dinner. His housemaid must be getting the last available supplies since the Pulse. The Berrisfords were privileged and Robert knew he was fortunate. That's why he knew he should give back to the world as he took Max under his wings.

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Max was glad Robert had inclined to not enroll Max in school. She didn't want to go back to a place where she most likely would not fit in, to learn things she already knew.

As she went downstairs for her first Berrisford dinner, Max saw a petite girl sitting with her back to Max at the table. Max took the seat next to Rachel, and Robert introduced them.

"Rachel, this is Sam. The girl I told you about. She'll be staying with us."

Rachel opened her arms and gave Max a quick, warm hug before pulling back and giving an angelic smile.

Max, infected by the younger girl, returned a grin before attacking the meal on her plate. The meat tasted sensational and Max barely chewed her vegetables. She didn't know what she did to deserve this – well, she'd saved Robert's life – but she liked it.

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**Berrisford Residence, Washington, 2013.**

_She took large steps, showing her enthusiasm and growing anticipation. She was finally going to see him again! _

_As she rounded the corner of the street, she saw the back of his blonde head, his barcode visible in her view. She grinned as she walked over to his waiting figure._

"_Alec!" she called excitedly. _

_Before he could turn around to return to the call, black-clad soldiers appeared from seemingly nowhere and grabbed his arms, quickly beginning to drag him. She watched the soldiers haul her friend away into a van. _

_She ran slowly after them, fearing the worst, but all she was left with was the view of a symbol, a lion, on the side of the dark van. She began to shake as sobs escaped her - she'd lost him again. She could have done something, but she didn't want to get captured too. How could she have failed him again? She screamed with all her might._

"ALEC!" Max screamed, terrified, as shot up in her bed from her first nightmare in two years. She could feel the pain in her constricted chest, the lingering of butterflies in her stomach that she'd dreamt of having when she saw him. She could hear the wheels of the van, screech, as it drove away from her. It felt so real.

Rachel ran in after hearing her sister shouting. Leaping to her side on the large bed, she hugged Max's shaking figure.

"Sam?" Rachel's small voice queried.

Max was seizing, she needed her Tryptophan.

"Rachel…my bag…" she mustered out as she shook violently. "The p-pills…"

Grabbing the bottle from Rachel, she swallowed the pills.

"Are you okay?"

"I have a neurological condition. They haven't been this bad for a while. Usually milk or my pills help," she answered properly, making herself stop shaking so she wouldn't scare her sister.

"Wh-who's Alec?"

Max's smile disappeared as fast as it appeared at his name.

"My best friend from the orphanage I grew up in. It was really bad where we stayed and he always promised he'd marry me." She chuckled. "We escaped together but I lost him. I always dream about him and it's not always good."

She felt much better having Rachel calming her. Her small hand rubbing Max's back soothingly and her face showing interest and sympathy as Max confided in her freely.

"You don't have to feel guilty, Sam," Rachel assured. "You'll see him soon."

Max smiled at Rachel's kind words as she hugged her again.

"Thanks," Max said as she realised she'd stopped shaking.

"Anytime, sis."

Rachel stayed in her room for the remaining hours of the night. Max was thankful.

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Max rummaged through her packed wardrobe, searching for an outfit. She thought of how her sister dressed: elegant, lady-like, expensive. Comparing to her attire: grungy, boyish, tight fitting, which made Max laugh at such difference between Rachel and herself. Rachel was only eleven and she dressed like a graceful woman. It constantly reminded Max that she wasn't made for this life. Then when she went to family dinner and sat with her _father_ and _sister_, everything felt right.

Max flopped onto her bed, spreading out across it and taking advantage of its large size. The very bed where, last night, Max had been screaming and seizing from a nightmare. She had only just been appreciating the nights of slumber, missing her nightmares like she missed her Manticore drill instructor.

A knock at the door startled Max.

"Sam?" Robert said from the doorway.

"Hm?"

He placed himself beside her on the bed. "Rachel told me about your seizures."

"Right…" she said guiltily. She never wanted to share anything with her family that associated her with Manticore. "I was born with this neurological condition. My father had it too. It's not that bad. They come every now and then and I take Tryptophan." She tried hard not to lie.

"How do you keep stock of the pills?"

_Smart question, damn it._ "I have a friend, she's nice and she gives them to me."

"Have you been visiting her since living her?"

"Once or twice," Max mumbled.

"Sam…" Robert said sternly.

As much as she hated hearing Robert speak in that voice, she smiled. It was always nice to be reminded that he cared for her like a real father. Max hid her smile as she apologised.

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**Unknown Location, 2013.**

A male teenager exited a store, a bag in hand. As his head rose to observe his surroundings, an odd feeling filled him. The hairs on his neck rising nervously as the familiar sensation clicked in him. _He was being watched_. Eager to throw off the unwanted company, he acted normally and began to head into a busy crowd nearby.

He felt eyes watching him, following him as he glided past people. He'd run into Manticore before and was lucky that he was so good at this back on practice missions.

As he saw soldiers walk out from the corners of buildings and alleys, he quickened his pace habitually. When the followers revealed themselves to the public, people moved aside to let the soldiers do their job. _Damn_, the boy thought.

He was running now, blurring like there was no tomorrow, and there might just not be if he didn't get himself out of this. The soldiers, weapons ready, followed, trying to match his incredible speed. He was thankful they'd been nice and sent ordinaries to capture him. If all kept going good, he'd be able to escape.

Reaching a dead-end alley, he was cornered.

"C'mon, 494," one soldier spoke up. "Enough running."

494 smirked, something that had also become habitual, and moved closer, challenging a fight. His legs flying through the air in a spinning kick, one soldier was easily gone.

A few rounds of punches later, another couple were unconscious. The last two soldiers had dropt their weapons- or rather, 494 had _disposed_ of them- and looked a lot stronger than the others. Aiming for his _little_ soldier, 494 sent a kick to the taunting soldier in the middle. The guy grunted an 'oomph' and fell to the ground, mumbling about a burning pain. _One left_.

Engaging in normal hand-to-hand combat, 494 sent some strong punches, injuring the man, before flipping over his head and kneeing him in the legs. As he collapsed and smashed his head on the pavement, the impact, combined with the earlier damage, sent him into darkness.

494 grinned at his work and dusted himself off.

"Not bad," he complimented himself before blurring out of the alley.

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Sorry that's it's a short chapter.

REVIEW PLEASE. :)


	6. Hot

A/N: So, I had the first two scenes ready ages ago but I got a virus on my USB and lost ALL my files. Traumatic. It took a while but I knew I had to redo it. It's probably better, and longer, so enjoy.

My original A/N said something about a sensitive topic, which is quite true and a plot I've been holding out for, chapters back. Finally my ideas can be expressed, wish me luck…

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Berrisford Residence, Washington, 2015.

A thirteen-year-old Rachel hurriedly scampered up the bending staircase. The impact of every quick footstep on each stair making a pattering drumbeat, while soft, it was a loud sound in comparison to the rest of the house, and radiated through both floors.

Her dainty limbs waved through the air as she darted to a familiar door. Not bothering to knock, she rushed in, almost knocking into Max, who was exiting her bedroom.

"Rach!" Max exclaimed in surprise. "What _are_ you doing?"

Rachel, who didn't seem capable of staying still, didn't answer. After running over and planting herself comfortably on Max's bed, she signalled for her older sister to join her.

"What?" Max badgered impatiently, yet still unable to suppress a shared smile. Rachel just had that effect.

"Okay, guess whaaaaat?!" Rachel squealed excitedly, unintentionally wearing Max's patience a little too thin.

"Rachel…" Max warned in a low voice.

"Okay, okay," Rachel gave in as she fidgeted and attempted to tame her motoring mouth. "Dad's throwing a party this Friday!"

Max chuckled, to her, the news was not very exhilarating to her but she'd humour her sister and join in with the excitement. It was moments, like the party, and the moments leading up to them, like this, that Max always enjoyed sharing with her sister. Reminding her of how someone was watching over her, giving her happiness, amongst the painful tokens that still haunted her from Manticore.

"Great! So…there has to be more? You wouldn't get this excited over _just_ a party!"

"You know me too well." Rachel laughed, ducking her head to hide a blush. "Craig Huntz is coming."

"Craig? As in _seventeen_-year-old Craig?" Max gasped. "Rach…There's so many better."

Craig was two years older than Max and the son of Michael Huntz, who was a close colleague of Robert's. Max could acknowledge his good looks but only as an ordinary, which was odd because for the past 6 years, she'd had nothing else to compare to.

Sometimes she felt like she was holding out for them – her unit friends – and even though she presumed most of them, less fortunate than her, to not have a family as secure and loving as the Berrisfords, she hoped they were still happy and most of all, alive. Especially the two she held dearest to her heart, Zack and Alec, her big brother and best friend. No matter how many years passed, they'd always be that to Max.

Rachel growled at Max's teasing, emphasising so with a soft swat on Max's shoulder. "Sam!"

Max smiled, throwing back a light punch. "Don't worry. Ya know I'm just kidding. It'll be fun."

Rachel smiled brightly again and Max winked at her.

"C'mon let's pick out dresses!" Max said, leading Rachel to the wardrobe.

"Oh! I wanna wear my new pink dress!" Rachel cheered.

Max laughed. "Okay, well help me pick!"

For the next hour, the two girls went through dress after dress – deep ruby, baby blue, striking violet – before settling on the perfect one for Max.

"You'll look beautiful, Sam," Rachel complimented.

Max smiled nervously.

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The first floor of the Berrisford mansion was alight with a glow. The stunning upper-class of Seattle, formally the employees of Mercidyne, for which Robert was CEO, mingled and drank pre-Pulse champagne, enjoying the orthodox, prosperous life, found seldom among those in the post-Pulse world. In fact, looking around the crowded manor, it was as if the Pulse had been scared to touch the area and instead, left it unscathed.

Fifty-three-year-old Robert was happily chatting to a man, Gregory, who had worked under Robert for many years. A noble man, Robert had always considered him to be overly hard-working and therefore, rather tedious. Still, Robert graciously conversed before moving on to greet his other guests.

Some were guided by whispers of admiration but most felt the compulsion to direct their attention to the staircase from an inner sense. In one second, the crowd quietened and swivelled their heads to face the entrance of the host's daughters.

Max, who was a few steps behind Rachel, nervously trotted on, lowering closer to the throng of guests with every step. It didn't help that they were all staring. Rachel's sandals guided her on with a soft patting, while Max's outfit-matching high heels made a louder tapping on the tiling; this being the only sound in the manor, now that the 'audience' was silent.

When they finally reached the ground, Max waved her hand, dismissing the stopping-and-staring. Max then turned and gave her sister a once-over and whistled in appreciation.

"Daaymn!" Max laughed and it was true.

Rachel looked spectacular. Her silk pink dress sat just above her ankles, and her soft make-up showed her natural beauty, carefully enticing the glow of her skin out. The exception to this being her bright pink lip-gloss, which made her fine lips stand out. Her brown hair fell in curls down her back, with soft strands framing her face gracefully. Rachel looked elegant and feminine yet still her age, this matter differing with Max.

Max and Rachel had chosen for Max to wear a curve-hugging black gown. Accentuating her perfect figure, Max oozed the sex appeal of a woman beyond Max's years. The dress was slightly shorter than Rachel's, yet still not revealing. The taffeta gown showed off Max's genetic perfections, making her too attractive for fifteen. The matching black heels were extremely hard for Max to walk in and she swore she'd never wear a pair of heels ever again.

Max noticed the attention she was receiving from all corners of the room, the young males were definitely interested. Oddly enough, Max was enjoying the attention and eager to give some back. _Like that cute guy over there!_ Max smiled provocatively at the young man, who was ogling her and he grinned back, implying all sorts of suggestions. That's when Max realised _who_ the 'cute guy' really was. _Craig Huntz!_ Max got a mental wake-up call before reassuring herself there were plenty of other willing young men.

She shook her head and headed over to the bar to order a water. She felt the need to cool her fever, if that's what it was. Even though she'd already discovered her amazing fast-working metabolism, Max couldn't order alcohol here. So she kept appearances and ignored her desire to get drunk. She could already tell it was going to be a bad night. Who knows what this 'fever' was.

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"Oh, yes…" Max said half-heartedly, plastering a fake smile for extra sweetness.

What was this guy on about?

Max nodded at Gregory again, pretending to pay complete attention to his monologue. It wasn't even about genetics or medicine. Max found it weird that even _she_ couldn't keep up.

Sister instinct kicking in, Rachel read 'fake' all across Max's face and interrupted the conversation to save Max.

"Sam," Rachel said, latching on to Max's arm. "Glad I found you. Dad wanted to speak to us. Sorry Mr. Parkes, may I steal my sister?"

Unable to resist young Rachel's pretty smile, Gregory nodded and watched the Berrisford girls walk away.

"Lifesaver!" Max muttered to Rachel, adding a grateful smile.

"We're even after this," Rachel replied before leading a clueless Max to the other side of the room.

A minute later, Max understood. "Those are boys… I've heard about the species…" she whispered jokingly.

Rachel chuckled as they reached the group.

"Sam, Rachel," Craig greeted, oozing confidence. The other teenage boys waved and smiled, seemingly distracted by the beauties.

A short, stubby boy, around Rachel's age grinned widely. "H-hi Rachel."

Rachel practically ignored the boy, focusing attention on Craig. "Enjoying the party?" she asked in her small voice.

"Definitely," Craig answered to Max.

Max turned her head away so the others wouldn't see the roll of her eyes. _Short kid likes Rachel. Rachel likes Craig. Craig likes Max. Max likes…Craig?_ Max once again scorned herself, battling her own conscience.

When she turned back, Craig was still staring at her – or maybe her chest is more accurate. She then found herself smiling in reply to his flirty wink. Luckily, Rachel missed the exchange as she chatted to Gabe, a blonde boy, Max's age. Soldiering on and fighting this peculiar fever that was certainly becoming of her sexual urges, Max began to converse with the young boy who appeared to have a crush on Rachel.

"Hi, I'm Max. What's your name?" She smiled sweetly.

"Martin," he replied with a cute grin.

"My sister's pretty hot, hey?"

He blushed tomato red.

"It's cool, I'm just messing with you," she comforted. "So, what do you think of this party? Kinda boring, huh?"

The two continued to talk and Max found herself a friend in Martin. He was a sweet, intelligent boy and Max could tell from his interest in science and Mercidyne that he was the son of a scientist there.

Not far away, Rachel was completely engrossed in a conversation with Craig. Max could tell her little sister was hanging on the every word of the tall blonde. She convinced herself that it was only because she didn't want her little sister to get hurt, but inside Max knew there were more reasons behind what she was going to do next.

"Hey guys!" Max cut in to Craig and Rachel's conversation, clearly disappointing Rachel and exciting Craig.

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Max was sweating intensely, her 'fever' getting more out of control by the second. That's why she'd left the party, running upstairs to the confinement of her bedroom before anything – else - happened.

She'd been eyeing every guy in the place and blushing like mad when she met gazes. Max felt like she'd turned into an animal and at times she'd love it, as if she were fulfilling her natural feline DNA, but her sober conscience was outraged and disgusted by her dirty desires. Especially when Max 'touched' that attractive young man by the bar.

She was just relieved she got away. People were probably talking about her abnormal behaviour downstairs, giving not only Max, but also Robert, a bad reputation. It was the last thing she needed – attention.

For the past few years, since settling down with the Berrisfords in Washington, she'd been under the radar, safe from the prowl of Manticore – safe from her past. Maybe it was all catching up to her. All the good times over the last couple of years had to be too good to be true. It was possible that this wasn't the life for a genetically engineered soldier.

Just as she began to cool down, a knock at the door stirred Max from her still position, sitting on the end of her bed. It took almost a minute for Max to register her surroundings and answer the calling.

"Come in!" she yelled back, thinking Rachel or her father had come up to lecture her about her irresponsible ways. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The intruder shot a sultry smile before quipping, "I'm here 'cause I've seen how you were looking at me."

Still in control, Max stood up and began to step backwards, away from the approaching invader. "Piss off!"

He chuckled coolly in reply. "C'mon Sam, I know you want me."

"Craig! I said piss off."

Ignoring her, Craig persisted, taking larger steps towards the female, still with an evil smirk present.

Only seconds later, Craig had Max up against the wall, invading any kind of personal space Max owned. He looked her over, breathed her in and ducked his head in for a kiss. No matter how much her head hated it, Max's body _had_ to respond. Weaving her arms around him, she deepened the kiss and pressed her body against his, the action moving them backwards – and eventually on to her bed.

Max's tongue was doing wonders, tasting all of him, feeding her hunger. She broke away for a regretful second to literally rip off his clothing. His tattered tuxedo jacket landing on the ground on the other side of her room and his shirt – once ironed, clean and prim – in pieces beside it.

Getting the hint, Craig began to undress Max, pulling the thin straps of her dress down her arms. However, Max felt only too impatient and ripped the garment from her body. The expensive dress fell behind her – in two long strips.

When the clothing barriers were shed, the teenagers released their hungry desire in a few hours in Max's bed. Max felt herself tear in two, like the stunning dress she'd sported, as she found both pleasure and repulsion in the act. However, for those few hours, she indulged in emotions she'd never experienced before, mutually good and bad. The passion that had been lurking inside her all night was unleashed and Max's feisty feline side fell through.

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Filthy. Dirty. Violated. Embarrassed. Shaken. Torn. Accomplished. The list went on.

Her fever was settled, or rather, fed and it didn't make her feel any better, at least not in her head. Was this another of Manticore's stupid genetic screw-ups? Or a purposeful, cruel experiment? Would it happen again? Was she the only one?

Only time would tell.

She needed to be cleansed, washed anew. Physically, yes, but also emotionally and mentally. Max knew of one thing that would help one of these areas and the idea was too tempting.

Quietly, she left the bed, where Craig was sleeping and Max had been staring at the ceiling. She didn't know how many hours had passed, it would be almost sunrise by now, but she'd just stared into the nothingness, her mind blank. Time had frozen; _she_ had frozen because it seemed too hard to live after what she'd done. It made Max feel dirty and sinned.

Max hurried over to her bedroom's adjoining bathroom, heading to her shower. On the way, the large bathroom mirror presented an interesting image to Max.

Her naked form and pale face stared back at her and it felt like another person. Looking at her own body, as if through another's eyes, she saw everything that defined Max. The emotions that were highlighted in her deep, brown eyes. The perfect genetics trimming her slender figure.

Most of all, Max was drawn to something she couldn't physically see – her heart. She could see the scars, the wounds, old and new, that had broken her young soul. It was right there in front of her and time had stopped again.

Max fell to the ground as her knees buckled. Her palms splayed out on the cold floor, a single tear fell down her face. It burned as it traced a trail down her cheek; it's physical softness contrasting an emotional fire.

It wasn't the first time Max had cried but it somehow felt like it was. She sniffled and sobbed harder, but silenced each cry as they escaped. The pain was constricting her chest and flaming at her temples. Her eyes quickly became extremely glassy from unwiped and unfallen tears.

Minutes later, Max collected herself and stepped into the shower. The cool water cleansed the filth imprinted in her skin. It may not have actually been removed but it still made Max feel better. The many droplets were disguising her tears.

She stayed standing in the cubicle for as long as she could handle and before she could prune, simply enjoying the bliss of the cleansing.

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**A/N:** The heat chapter was an idea I'd been thinking up and preparing since like CH2. I wanted to show the new emotions and desire yet also a serious disgust. It's presumed that the cycle had been coming on, days before but Max had not been surrounded by that many, if any, males and it developed wildly at the party.

The last scene was also planned but it was more of a reflection than a cleansing. I intended to have Max reflect on the Berrisfords and Manticore and Alec but it steered off for itself.

So I hoped you enjoyed this overdue update. I'd appreciate LOTS of reviews this chapter since it was a big point. Please give me your feedback on this chapter! ***almost begging***


	7. Guilt

**A/N:** God, I'm so sorry for this. I can't even begin to list the many things that have gotten in my way. However, it was mainly me procrastinating. Enjoy the overdue update!

The overuse of '…'s are to show the slow moving of the first scene - the uneasiness and apprehension.

**&&**

**Berrisford Residence, Washington, 2015.**

It had been a whole week and, God, had it felt like much longer. Only a week. Or maybe a week was a lot. Maybe she'd been doing good to survive this long.

Either way, it wasn't going to drag on any longer. Max couldn't do that to Rachel, her sister, who had spoken each and all of her secrets to Max. It hurt enough that Max couldn't be honest about who she really was. No, this secret would not be kept from Rachel. Max couldn't do that to her, especially since it partially involved her.

She needed someone to talk about it with anyway. Her sister may only be thirteen but to Max, she had proven to possess maturity beyond her age. So she would tell her. Today.

"Rach," Max began as she approached Rachel. The younger sat at her small desk doing homework before she'd quickly directed her attention to the knock at her door. "I need to talk to you."

Rachel dropped her pen and scooted her chair away from the desk, indicating for Max to sit near her. Max accepted the invitation and walked over to sit on Rachel's single bed that was quilted with a big cream blanket.

Rachel had a nice bedroom that was suiting to who she was, what she grew up with and her age. To Max, this was one of many elements of Rachel's lifestyle that she envied. Sure, Max had a pretty bedroom that was decorated with picture frames and her favourite colours – but it was all fake.

To have something so simple, yet such a part of who you are, come real and natural, was something for Max to be jealous of. It wasn't as if Max didn't appreciate all she had, she just wished it were really hers.

"What did you wanna talk about?" Rachel asked, noticing Max's serious tone and body language. It was making Rachel anxious but she knew, for her sister's sake, she had to stay calm and strong. This didn't mean that the miserable, heart-breaking expression across Max's face didn't upset Rachel. In fact, she herself was close to tears at the look.

"What am I going to say…is…" Max paused, thinking carefully of the choice and structure of her words. It was her responsibility to be a protective and caring big sister but to also be a role model for Rachel. What she was going to say wouldn't not only open much vulnerability in Max, but also a lot in their sisterly relationship. "It's…well, big. And I just want to prepare you and assure you, in advance, that this is…" she stopped again and Rachel finished the thought.

"Big?"

"Yeah…big," Max accepted with a nod, also accompanied by a hard swallow of stress.

She took a deep breath and decided to stop picking her words and to, instead, speak from her heart. "Look, you and me, our friendship has blossomed over the years. You've always reminded me of someone that meant a lot to me, before I met you. When I did meet you, it was different – hard to accept on my account. But you…you welcomed me, accepted me as your big sister from the moment we met. There is so much I admire in you – strength and beauty- and that's why it's been so hard to take on the big sister role. I just would never want to taint your innocence or send you in the wrong direction.

"So, what I'm gonna say _is_ big. Not just the event in question but also the fact that I'm sharing this with you is a step. Forwards or backwards? I couldn't say. But I'm here being honest."

"Okay…" Rachel gave a slight nod, while also hiding her apprehension. "Go ahead…"

"So, the party… a week ago… Friday," Max began.

"Yes." Rachel laughed. "That was a week ago!"

Max shook her head and let out a laugh too. "Me and Craig…" Max risked raising her head to see Rachel's reaction. She managed to catch her pretty smile fade to a wide-eyed expression of horror before she ducked her head again. She fiddled with the fabric at the hem of her shirt nervously.

Rachel lowered her head, closer, encouraging Max to continue before she could jump to conclusions.

"Something happened to me that afternoon. Some of it I can't tell you about now…And some of it, I can't even explain to myself. Maybe one day we'll have answers. But something happened and…" she gulped and lifted her head again.

Rachel's mouth was open slightly but her eyes looked into Max's like nothing was wrong. Max could tell she was a little shocked but not showing it. She was hiding other emotions too.

"I'm sorry. I haven't exactly set a good example." Max tried to get rid of the gnawing feeling.

Rachel still looked speechless. She'd closed her mouth and now looked determined and almost angry. She hid it well though, revealing little emotion in her eyes before she looked away. It didn't take a trained soldier to know Rachel was upset. She, too, swallowed hard and pursed her lips before speaking. "So you two…" There was question in her voice. She was looking for confirmation.

Max finally said it. "We slept together." It came out in a heap but felt good to let it out.

Rachel looked away again, finally breaking her gaze from Max. She took a deep breath and stood up before turning on her heel and walking out to leave Max alone in Rachel's bedroom.

Max stared down at the ground and bit her lip in frustration. She knew this would happen but really hoped it wouldn't.

Facts were, it hurt and even if it took a heavy weight off Max's shoulders, it still left a mess in her hands. She considered running after Rachel but realised it would probably only worsen things. So she sat on the small bed in a reverie of nothingness for a long while. Eventually when she heard the sound of the front door slamming, Max got up.

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**Berrisford Residence, Washington, 2016.**

Max stood outside Rachel's bedroom, rapping on the door. It had been well over a year since Max's first 'heat' experience, as she now called it. Ever since Max slept with Rachel's teen crush, Craig, things had been a little different. Rachel was brave and strong, forgiving Max not long after being told of the news.

However, it had become quite common for Max to find herself staring at the closed bedroom door, as she was now. Rachel had grown up a lot in the last year and was certainly more closed off, even with her big sister.

The trouble was that in Rachel's eyes, Max had committed a crime. She didn't - and couldn't – know of the real reason Max landed herself in the 'heated' situation. So, to Rachel, it seemed as if Max had sinned as a role model and tainted any admiration Rachel felt towards the older. It killed Max.

To watch the young girl grow up before her own eyes, while shutting her out. Though things had been tense, recently they had been working their way back to a new relationship.

Rachel, though older and wiser, was still an elegant, innocent and intelligent fourteen-year-old. She was still Max's little sister and not resembling her in any way. There was no attitude or rebellious side, like Max possessed.

It stung Max when Rachel openly admitted that she once wanted to 'grow up and be just like Sam' and now those days were long gone because her big sister had disappointed her and killed this image. Along with her virginity, Max lost her little sister's respect from that night.

Robert Berrisford had picked up on the change a little while after the party he'd held in October of the previous year. He may have been working hard and giving up much of his time to his position as CEO of Mercidyne, but it was all for his two girls. He was still their father and easily knew when something was wrong. He'd questioned the both of them numerous times and, in return, received uninformative answers.

So a few months back, sick of watching his daughters drift apart, he enrolled them in a piano class – together. The piano that sat untouched in their formal room was a constant and painful reminder of the late Mrs. Berrisford, who used to play beautiful melodies for her husband and daughter.

Robert was sure that his daughters would enjoy and excel at the classes as Rachel carried many similar traits from her gifted mother and Max was known for being an enthusiastic and fast learner.

At first he was disappointed to see the girls' reluctance, but as time passed both Rachel and Max improved in their skills and began to enjoy the classes and the extra time spent together. Nothing made their father happier.

Over time, Max and Rachel rekindled their sisterly friendship and bonded closer than ever.

Still, Max knew that even though the closed doors staring back at her were appearing less and less, they would always be there as a constant reminder of the lowered respect from Rachel, and, not to mention, the unwelcomed reminder of Manticore and their lovely genetic mishaps that would always be in the shadows.

Rachel opened the door to see Max waiting expectantly.

"Come on, ya slowpoke!" Max laughed. "Lesson time!"

Rachel nodded and followed her sister downstairs to begin the lesson with their teacher, Mr. Grady.

Grady was a middle-aged man with short brown hair, quite older than the girls and quite younger than Robert. He was a trusted, long-time friend of Robert's and a highly regarded piano teacher. He constantly commented on how impressed he was by the girls playing talents and Robert would always smile proudly.

"So what shall we learn today?" the man asked Max and Rachel. "Sam, any suggestions? Fast, slow. Nothing easy, of course! Maybe today we'll have a competition between the both of you…" Grady babbled on about his wonderful idea both boring and exciting the two teenagers at once.

Robert exited the room with a small smile across his face. He had no clue what he'd do without his daughters.

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"Sam, we need to discuss your future. I mean, yes, I allowed for you to not attend school when I first adopted you because you were fairly different and scared. However, this doesn't mean, that at sixteen, I will allow you to stay at home all day watching nonsense TV and swimming in the pool," Robert stated in his calm yet fatherly tone.

Max smiled guiltily but inside was crumbling at the thought of attending a school.

"Really, you're an intelligent girl, even without any schooling, which, to this day, I don't understand. But, even so, with a brain like that you could do so much!" he said excitedly.

"I know, Dad, but seriously, after the Pulse hit, the money went missing, the jobs went out and there are few positions that have come up and even less have maintained over the years. Plus, even now at sixteen, I don't know what I wanna do. I don't think I'd feel right waiting tables or sitting behind an office desk or taking calls for some-"

"Sam," Robert cut in. "Look at what I do. I have managed to keep my well-paid, high-class job over the years. I take care of my family and enjoy my job. You have the looks, the brains, the style, to land yourself a job that you like, so why not? We can get you in for your senior years of high school, a nice college and you'll get that job easy!"

"As exciting and terrific as it sounds you're getting way ahead of yourself, Dad," Max said, "I appreciate the thoughts but I _am_ happy here."

With the flash of a smile, Max quietly left her seat at the table and then, the room.

Robert ran a hand through his short dark hair and let out a long breath. There was more to his eldest daughter, so much that she kept a mystery. He knew she kept it from not only him but also her closest and only real friend, Rachel. Maybe one day she'd open up. Robert didn't want to push her.

He'd known there was something else about her from the moment he'd brought her into his home but she was too young and fragile back then. Now in her teen years, Robert didn't want to push Max in case it backfired and she rebelled. It was a tough weight on his shoulders either way.

Max trotted up the stairs to her bedroom, thinking about what her father said. She'd been lucky that he hadn't mentioned it before. She'd never been to school. Heck, she hardly left the house. So, of course, just as she begins to settle in and be happy with her life, things have to change. Cue the 'Max Curse' – the one that doesn't allow her to stay happy.

She didn't want to have to leave the Berrisford house. What more could she want? Max had a real family and a routine in her life, even if it wasn't much. She was underneath the radar, playing it normal and out of Manticore's sight. Why did things have to change?

Max knew Robert wouldn't let this go. He would if he knew her reasons but it's not like she could just say, "Hey, for the past few years that you've been sheltering and taking care of me, I've been lying to you! Great, so can I just stay here?"

_Keep dreaming, Max_, she reminded herself.

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**East Washington, 2016.**

494 muttered crude curses under his breath. "How could I be so careless?" he whispered to himself.

They had found him again. This wasn't the first, or the second, time that Manticore had come after him. It made him question his motives. Running away from the facility was ideal at first but when you're alone and in a world you weren't meant for, your life becomes something else.

It was novel at first but looking back, 494 could see what his life had become. He wasn't moving forward, he was hardly living. What _had_ his life become? A constant fight.

All day, everyday, 494 spent his time staying hidden and trying to find new ways and places to hide – plus, stealing food so he wouldn't die, which didn't help him stay off the radar. He didn't do anything and he hardly interacted with other people. He just kept running and fighting for his life.

Now standing a mature young man, 494 could see that his life was now pointless, so why was he fighting to stay alive, just so he could wake up tomorrow and begin the fight all over again?

He poked his head out of the alley to check how close his enemies were. 494 had outrun them and found an obvious hiding place. The Manticore retrieval squad were coming in close and they would know where to look to find him, which made 494 question why he'd run into the alley.

It would be the first place they'd check, so did he _want_ to be caught? Well, he didn't want to go back to Manticore but he wanted it to be _over_. What did he want to end? That he didn't know either; he just wanted to _end_ it.

The squad was closing in on him now and he had to make his decision. Run, fight them, and continue a life on the run. Or stop, let them find him and end the fight. Why was he here? What was he going to do?

494 threw his head back onto the brick wall. _Hard_. The stinging pain almost soothed him.

The footsteps were getting harder and much louder. They were so close.

_C'mon soldier, what you gonna do?_

"896, take the alley," ordered one soldier and that's when _Alec_ knew what _494 _had to do.

A Manticore soldier, X5-896 - 494 concluded - turned into the alley and almost didn't see 494, which worked in 494's advantage. He punched the soldier in the head and using his ultra-speed, took the soldier's gun. 896 had no time to react, even _with_ Manticore abilities, because 494 had the advantage from the beginning.

494 pointed the rifle at 896 and chuckled coldly. 896 kicked powerfully towards 494's stomach but he dodged it. The attempted blow angered 494 even more. He gave a little wave before pulling the trigger. The bullet hit 896 point blank, between the eyes.

His blue orbs went wide, and thick, red blood began to trickle down his face. Before the soldier's body could hit the ground, 494 had dropped the gun and blurred away. His determination stronger than ever, the blonde escaped too fast for the other Manticore soldiers to come close to locating him again. Another close encounter.

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It had been a whole day and, God, how it felt like much longer. Only a day. Or maybe a day was a lot. Maybe he'd been doing good to survive this long.

It depends how long it takes for an average person to crack after killing another. His brain just couldn't seem to process the information.

He. Had. _Shot_. A. Person.

Soldier or not, that was a life worth just as much as his own. The guy probably had friends back at Manticore. Who knew what life he led at the facility?

494 kept replaying it, except he saw the event through the eyes of the victim. From his own hazel eyes, glazed over in determination, and turned up smirk, to the bullet, soaring through the air. He could see and feel what 896 felt in the situation, and it didn't feel good.

For 7 years, 494 had been on the run but never _once_ had he hurt a person. How could he live with himself after such a crime?

He felt even more guilt as he remembered why: why he killed the soldier; why he didn't finish his fight and get caught. It was all because of _Alec_. The name his friends, specifically Max, had given him. The thought of that day, the day 494 became a person, made him realise that his life was not over – that there were people out there, who understood him and were waiting for him. So he would fight.

However, his decision was not that simple. Had he not just been questioning the difference of worthiness in both 896 and his lives? Oh, the rhetorical questions.

**&&**

**A/N 2:** Can't say this is my best chapter because I rushed it. Updates will be coming quicker, I _promise_! Reviews are loved, thank you!


	8. Anew

**A/N: **This chapter begins in the setting of a few months before the show's Pilot. This is the start of the set of chapters you've been waiting for…I think. Yeah, this chapter and the next are the build-up chapters. * suspenseful music plays * OK, on with the show…

**&&**

**Berrisford Residence, Washington, 2018.**

Max feigned weakness and pain as she carried two of her suitcases down the stairs – which, in reality, was an effortless movement for her. Her father was taking the other one. After she reached the ground floor, she eased up on the faking and hauled the bags to the foyer. Max dropped the suitcases, and watched her father struggle with the other one before arriving at the entrance.

"Whew," Max declared her 'relief'. "I guess I had more stuff than we expected." Her eyes ran over the luggage before she shrugged and smiled sheepishly at Robert.

The older man waved it off and, instead, gave a smile and pulled Max into a hug. "My Sammy's growing up – leaving home. Oh, all the Seattle boys will be lining up for you!"

Max chuckled, rolled her eyes and denied the compliment with a headshake.

"No, look at you," he insisted, bracing her shoulders and stepping back to look at her frame. "You look beautiful."

Max rejected the praise again and looked down at herself. Her attire wasn't exactly 'beautiful'. Her plain red tank top was covered by a dark polyester jacket, which hid any skin bared by the top. She had a pair of baggy black pants that stopped between her knees and ankles. Apart from the clothes, Max wore a cap turned to the side, which didn't exactly complement her curly raven hair. Max knew her father was merely complimenting her perfect genes and that her apparel was causing him to exaggerate slightly.

"It's OK. I'm meant to look a bit boyish," Max joked with a laugh.

Now Robert was rolling his eyes. "I'll get your sister," he informed her as he turned to walk back up the stairs.

It wasn't long after when Rachel came running down. "Saaaaaam!" she screamed as she practically jumped down the steps.

"Raach!" Max called back and met Rachel halfway to embrace her in a big bear hug.

"I can't believe you're going all the way to Seattle, Sam!" Rachel cried. "How can you leave me?"

"It's pretty easy, you see-" Max began jokingly.

Rachel gave her a shove and flashed a sparkling grin. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll call you everyday," Max promised as she reached in for another crushing hug.

"Try not to scare off all the cute guys," Rachel advised. "You got a fresh start, don't screw up!"

Robert interrupted. "I like it when she scares them off!" he ribbed with mock-defence.

"OK, I think we've all shared enough on the subject of my non-existent love life," Max finished the discussion.

"Come back for holidays? Celebrations? Family get-togethers?" Robert asked, getting more anxious as he added more questioning.

Max gave an enthusiastic nod in reply. "'Course," she accepted even though she hated most holidays and refused to celebrate her own 'birthday'. "I'll come back for all that and more."

"Alright well that's about it." He bent down and attempted to lift two of the cases but failed. Embarrassed, he simply took the one and headed out the door.

Max and Rachel giggled. "Take care, big sis!" Rachel beamed up at her sister.

"You too," Max returned.

She took a moment to commit the picture before her to her – enhanced – memory. Rachel had grown up into a stunning young woman, with wavy dark hair that flowed softly and gorgeous facial features, accentuated by soft makeup. Rachel's best feature, however, was the radiant smile that assured and enlivened anyone special enough to see the beautiful attribute.

After another quick hug, Max picked up her bags, turned away and began to walk towards the grand doors. She couldn't exit without looking back over her shoulder and smiling at her younger sister. Rachel waved lightly back.

Robert drove Max to the nearest bus stop as Max had convinced him that she would be fine taking public transport. The bus trip to Seattle would be a few – well that was how much she told him – hours long but Max said she was 'prepared'.

"Seattle isn't exactly the cleanest place post-Pulse," Robert nagged in a wary tone. "It's not like here, you understand that, Sam?"

Max grinned at her father in the driver's seat. "Dad, I'm _going_. You know me, I can take care of myself!"

"I don't know what scares me more – that you _can_ take care of yourself or that you now _need_ to take care of yourself," he admitted worriedly. Robert occasionally snuck glances at the young woman beside him; taking in her image like he might forget her if he didn't memorize her.

"Stop worrying!" Max teased. "You _are_ going to see me again."

"Stop laughing!" he countered but couldn't suppress his own grin.

"Dad, how did we meet?" It certainly didn't sound like a 'normal' question, but since when was Max normal?

Robert responded in a defeated tone, "You saved my life." His mumbled admission was almost inaudible but Max caught it anyway.

"And how old was I?" Max questioned, sounding more like the parent.

"Eleven," came his quiet reply.

"And have I been able to take care of myself since then?" was her last question.

Robert almost ignored this question and, instead, expressed his own thoughts. "Sam, you remember that nightmare you had when you were twelve?"

_Which one?_ Max said to herself. She _did_ know that there was only one that he would know about. "Yes."

"You had been so strong and closed off in the year before. It was the first time I saw _Sam_. You were vulnerable and willing to accept me as your comforter – you let me _protect _you," he recalled.

Max's mind journeyed back to that night as he retold the memory. Most of what he said was right; that _was_ the night they bonded, but he was wrong in one point. He had seen _Sam _every day that year – that night was the first time he saw_ Max_, whatever the difference may be.

"Dad…" Max began, unsure of how to collect her thoughts and form them as words.

The older man cut in, though. "I may not be your biological father but you know that it makes no difference to me. _You_ rebuilt the Berrisford family after Rachel's mother died. We were broken but you brought out the love that made us a family."

"I'll be back for Christmas," she finished as they reached the bus stop. "One month away!" She felt slightly ashamed for her lame subject change but even after living in a loving family for over 7 years, Max was still emotionally closed off and uncomfortable with discussing things so personal.

She felt honoured to receive such credit and praise from Robert, but it was too much. She was leaving for a good reason. She needed to find herself, yes, but it was more like 'embrace her past'. Max had always been haunted by the memories and repercussions of Manticore but she could push it away most of the time. Now that she was an adult, it was time to face who she really was.

Robert walked Max to the dingy excuse for a bus stop.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he questioned, searching for her honest confirmation – again. He'd dropped her bags and they were about to say goodbye.

"Dad," Max said simply – and he knew her answer. He already knew many of the answers and thoughts in her head. He understood that she needed to do this, but as they say, he didn't have to like it.

"Bye Sam," he whispered as he hugged her tightly.

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**Sector 9, Seattle, Washington, 2018.**

Robert had arranged for Max to stay in an upper-class hotel for the week, until she found a new place to stay. So a day after leaving her family, Max was freely exploring the Emerald City – as it was called in the pre-Pulse world. It certainly wasn't any kind of emerald-looking, Max observed.

The sky was terribly grey, something Max had adapted to, living in Washington, but at _least_ there was _some_ sun where she'd previously lived. The people were unfriendly and, most, quite destitute. Many buildings were abandoned, which had seemingly transformed into a big plus for squatters. Max was surprised to see how many people fought it out for a place in the derelict blocks.

For the next couple of days, Max continued to roam the city. She observed the people, the contrasting lifestyles, and tried to get a grasp on the area. She spent a lot of time walking the streets, something she didn't usually do much, for her own safety. She noticed how interesting Seattle really was. How it could easily have a sky-scraping, wealthy apartment building adjacent to a neglected, garbage pile that was meant to be a house.

While Max _did_ enjoy staying in the glamorous hotel that her father had picked out – he even chose a suite that resembled the Berrisford mansion – by the end of the week, she was ready to begin her new life. This new life would not involve Max pretending to be Sam, she'd already decided.

It made her stomach do flip-flops when she first introduced herself as _Max_. It sounded so natural, something that belonged to her all along, and after that first time, she felt prepared to permanently wear a nametag, declaring her former alias (Sam) to be exactly that – an alias.

On her last night, before giving up the hotel room, Max decided to make her 'move'. She'd spotted a popular club that was calling her name – Maaax! Max made her way, on foot, to the place on 1313 Euclid, thinking about how desperately she needed to get a car.

Max walked down the stairs, entering the bar. She immediately noticed the bar counter with a few occupied stools, the small excuse for a dance floor and a raised loft. _This place just might be all right…_Max thought as she breathed in the atmosphere.

There were a fair amount of people, most seemed to be meeting up with friends after a day of work. Her eyes then fell on two guys, a colourfully dressed, dark-skinned man and a scrawny dark-haired, pale-skinned guy, who were occupying the pool table. Max made a mental note to kick their asses at a game later. She grinned widely, like a Cheshire cat, at the thought.

Her mind drifted back to the first night she'd played a game of pool. It was at a function held at the home of one of Robert's colleagues and Max decided to take on some of the employees' sons. She didn't think to use her enhanced senses at first, but by the end of night, she was beating the fathers too.

Max headed over to the bar and ordered a beer.

The bartender eyed her with a pair of very interested orbs. Max had to admit – to herself only – that she _had_ dressed up for the night. Even if it wasn't an occasion, Rachel had _insisted_ that Max 'get out in the world' during their phone call the previous day.

She'd noticed the attention she'd received when she walked in and the newness of it all made her cheeks redden. She really felt embarrassed.

Max brought the drink up to her lips and just as she was about to sip the liquid, someone bumped shoulders with her. Max's head swirled around, her fists clenched and ready to punch any sleazy drunk, but she was greeted with a different sight.

"Sorry, sugar," the African-American girl, with a head of big, frizzy hair, apologised and smiled sincerely.

Max couldn't help but return her warm smile. "No blood, no foul," Max said, waving her hand over her shirt, showing that she hadn't spilt any drink.

The curly-haired woman, who was dressed quite outrageously, – probably more suiting for the club, Max admitted to herself – eyed the transgenic, like the bartender had earlier. Max instantly got the message as she noticed the other woman's flirtatious smile, inviting eyes and playful posture. She felt her eyes widen slightly.

"Oh, no," Max refused politely. "I'm sorry, I'm not-"

"It's cool, honey, all the good ones ain't. I shoulda known," the other woman joked with a wink.

Max was instantly warming to the woman. Possibly because she was the first person she'd met in Seattle that didn't intimidate the hell out of Max. And Max wasn't one to be intimidated; she just preferred a more laidback lifestyle.

"I'm Max," she introduced herself, purely because she loved saying those two words. She couldn't wait to introduce the world to Max – sassy, intelligent, spunky, careless Max.

"I'm Original Cindy," the other girl said in a heavy accent.

Both girls shared a smile.

"So, sugar, you come here often? And that ain't a pick-up line!" Original Cindy asked, seating herself next to Max.

"Actually this is my first time here," Max admitted, feeling stupid that she sounded so shy. "I just moved here actually. Well, I don't have a place, just a hotel suite."

"A suite? Sweet."

Both girls continued to get to know each other. Bouncing back and forth, they took turns at asking different questions. By the end of two hours, they were giggling and gossiping like sisters, who _hadn't_ just met. Max already felt close to the wild, sociable woman and came close to exposing her deepest secret many times.

"So where _were_ you born?" Original Cindy had asked after finding out that Max was adopted.

'_Actually I was _created_ in a lab in Wyoming_,' the words had almost escaped Max's mouth. "Gillette, Wyoming," she'd answered instead. "Don't remember much of my childhood."

Now, the two new friends were discussing Cindy's job as a messenger.

"Hey, you think this 'Normal' would mind giving me a job?" Max queried hopefully.

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**Sector 9, Seattle, Washington, 2018.**

Three weeks had passed and Max was settled in Seattle. The night she'd met Original Cindy, she'd also been introduced to the two guys she'd seen at the pool table – Original Cindy's friends, Herbal and Sketchy, whom she did, in fact, beat in a game of pool.

Twenty-four hours later, Max found herself sitting around a table towards the back of Crash, with her 3 new friends and a pitcher of beer. By then, she'd also a landed a job at the messenger service, Jam Pony, and found a home, sharing an apartment with another friend of Original Cindy's, Kendra.

Things were looking good.

Max was riding her bike to work, prepared for a long day ahead of her. It was almost Christmas, which meant lots and lots of presents were being sent via the messenger express._ Didn't people see each other, face-to-face, anymore?_ Max wondered.

The raven-haired transgenic was greeted by the familiar chirping of her boss as she strode into work. "Bip, bip, bip!" Normal cried to a scared pack of messengers, who were scurrying out behind Max.

She rolled her eyes. "Hey Normal, whatcha got for me?" she asked, leaning over the dispatch desk, hoping to bother her irritable boss.

He threw a package at her without meeting her eyes. "Sector 6, Missy Miss," he ordered.

'Missy Miss'. Yes, it had become her own personal nickname. Max didn't mind, though; she found it humorous. In fact, she liked it because it almost made her feel _normal_.

Ironic. Maybe that's how Reagan Ronald got _his_ nickname.

**That night…**

"Ohhh, Sammy!" a high-pitched voice cried through the phone, possibly damaging Max's ears. "I miss you."

"I know, Rach," Max sympathised, "but I couldn't stay at home forever."

Max could almost _hear_ Rachel pouting. "But-but you can't meet my new guy!"

"Your new guy?" Max poked, habitually raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, this guy in my English class asked me out…" Rachel admitted, bashfully.

Max giggled. "Stop blushing and tell me about him," she scorned.

"OK, his name is Ewan-"

"Ewan?" Max interrupted, speaking with a mocking tone. "What kind of name is that?"

Rachel gasped. "A perfectly normal one. Shut up!"

"Just kidding! Go on…" she urged with martyrdom in her voice.

"OK, where was I? Oh, yeah!" Rachel continued and filled Max in on all the 'hot' details.

Twenty minutes later, when Max and Rachel had finished their daily chat, the older sister hung up the phone.

"Your sister again?" the raspy voice of her roommate came as the other woman walked out of her bedroom and over to Max in the kitchen.

"Yeah," Max answered.

"She calls at the same time every night, hey?" Kendra pointed out with a smile.

Max grinned back. That was, in fact, Max's idea. If Rachel called at the same time every night, Max would know to pick up the phone. If she didn't, then Kendra might answer and it might get messy trying to explain why a girl was ringing, asking for a 'Sam'. "My little sister can be a pain but she's the sweetest thing."

Kendra tilted her head. "Wow," she said simply.

Max blinked. "What?"

"Just the look on your face. I didn't take you for such a family gal," Kendra admitted.

Max smiled again. "My family mean heaps to me," she said honestly. As she spoke those words, she realized she was talking about _both_ her families – The Berrisfords and Unit 2.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

**Sector 9, Seattle, Washington, 2018.**

During their break between package deliveries, Original Cindy and Max sat at a table on the loft at Jam Pony. As they munched at their lunches, they chatted.

"So, boo, three weeks and not _once_ have you mentioned anything about a baby boo, past or present. You got Original Cindy wondering: you sure you ain't batting for the home team?" Cindy questioned with a chuckle.

Max shook her head. "My love life is imaginary, absent – non-existent," she confessed, while thinking about the tri-yearly heat cycles. She inwardly groaned at the thought – Max's personal nightmare. She could run, but she couldn't hide. She was due soon.

"A hot sugar like yourself?" Original Cindy complimented Max, with disappointment in her playful voice, "Such a shame. Although, I do understand, the 3-legged kind are just damn scary most of the time."

Max's lips parted, her mouth opening, ready to share her opinion on the matter, and probably cover up her secret life even more, but she was cut off by a TV bulletin.

A pair of blue eyes between red banners with scrolling words stared back at Max. "_Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Streaming Freedom Video bulletin. The cable hack will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be traced. It cannot be stopped. And it is the only free voice left in this city._"

Max half-listened as she went back to nibbling at her sandwich. _Boring…_

Everyone else, including a distracted Cindy, had turned their attention to the screen as Eyes Only continued his 'report'. However, Max couldn't care less about some wannabe superhero.

It wasn't till after the voiceover mentioned a familiar name did Max's eyes flick up to the screen again. Just in time, she caught a brief glimpse of a picture that had appeared amongst a slideshow of Eyes Only's 'evidence'. To anyone else, the name and picture would seem insignificant and would be forgotten amongst the mass of other names and facts the voiceover babbled on about. But to Max, who was staring up at the TV with wide brown eyes, it was a_ big_ deal.

As the cable hack came to a close, Max continued to stare, shocked and bedazzled, at the television screen. She couldn't get the image out of her head – the back of a neck, with a barcode. Then a voice repeated three words again and again: '_Colonel Donald Lydecker_'.

Max surmised, from what she _had_ heard in the bulletin, and the facts she knew from her childhood, that an X5 unit on a mission had done something wrong and ended up dead. Then Eyes Only was able to track it back to Lydecker because – something very unusual – Lydecker had been slow to react.

This was bad – very bad. Max knew she had to do something about it.

Max took one last, difficult bite from her lunch and continued to stare off into space. Original Cindy's big brown eyes gazed worriedly at the transgenic. "Boo, you aiight?"

Max swallowed once – to rid of the food, struggling past her throat – then twice – a nervous habit – before nodding and forcing a smile across her face.

This didn't convince Original Cindy, who watched Max intently, her eyebrows pulled together. "OK…" she muttered to herself.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

**Sector 9, Seattle, Washington, 2018.**

It took a fair amount of convincing to get Vogelsang to investigate the mighty Eyes Only, but Max knew he'd come around sooner or later. Although, she didn't expect him to be so greedy.

She'd already blown through half of the money her father had given her before she came to Seattle, and that was _before_ she began bribing the private investigator. Well, she'd have saved more of the money if she could've resisted buying her motorcycle, but maybe Max was a little greedy too.

With the combined resources and knowledge of Vogelsang and the transgenic, Max, it took only one month to track down the hacker – including a break for Christmas and New Years when Max went back home. Even when she was celebrating at her father's party, Max took some time to go and check up on his findings.

Max was careful and ensured she didn't reveal anything to Vogelsang. If she couldn't tell her father or sister, she wasn't telling some P.I. who could easily stab Max's back. She often noticed his frowning and bewildered expressions in response to some of the information she provided, but purposely ignored it. She wouldn't say anymore than she needed to.

It was almost catlike, the way Max moved. With grace and swiftness, her movements were silent. If she hadn't been adopted into a wealthy family, Max would have made a good thief.

Her footsteps were unheard to the unsuspecting prey behind his desk. He was facing away from Max, which gave her an advantage. She moved forward and peered closer, focusing her vision on the screen over the man's shoulder.

_Too easy_, Max declared to herself. With a grin to match her felinely movements, she glided towards the man until she was a foot away from him. Her breath was coming silent and small and her leather attire made no sound either. _This is gonna be so good_, Max thought.

She crouched till she was at his level and her breath was fanning his neck. That's when, finally, the man stopped typing and flipped around to face her.

He was grinning? No, _smirking_.

"I _do_ have monitored security cameras," he quipped, standing up to meet her at full height.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I know who you are…Logan Cale." Pause. "Or should I say _Eyes Only?_" she countered.

His expression turned even smugger. "I know who you are too…" he replied, before adding, "452", on the end deliberately.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why would I want to do 'business' with you?" Max asked with a hint of antipathy.

She continued to stare at the picture plastered across the computer screen – more evidence for Mr. Eyes Only. It was her, climbing through the window of Logan's apartment. The wind blowing her long raven hair away from her neck, giving the camera a perfect view of her barcode.

"You want answers. I have some and I can get more," Logan replied, looking up at Max from his seated position.

She stood, hands on hips, looking very sassy and _dangerous_ in her leather cat suit. At first glance, her body language showed confidence and power, but as he looked closer, Logan noticed the worry and sadness in Max's eyes as she gawked at the picture.

Max considered his offer. A little quid pro quo? On the surface, the proposal was promising, but Max couldn't tie herself down so easily. She had bigger things to consider. She gnawed at her plump bottom lip, tasting her sweet cherry lip-gloss.

"What can you get more of, exactly?" she questioned again, stalling time as she dug deeper.

"You want to find you brothers and sisters? I have plenty of informants with something to say," he continued his proposition, "All you have to do is use your… skills."

"So you say," Max mumbled, sounding faraway. "But apart from the obvious, why me?"

"I can hack government databases in half an hour but I can't infiltrate a Navy base without being caught."

"A navy base?" she repeated, unimpressed.

Logan shrugged.

She looked out the window across the room, silently deliberating. "Fine."

"Fine?" he searched for verification.

"Deal," she confirmed, waving her arms around. "But I stay in the loop on _everything_."

"Deal." He grinned and nodded before watching the raven-haired beauty spin around and leave.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N:** OK, a nice long chapter to make up for my absence. I had a good holiday, for what it's worth. Please **review** and the next update will come _much _quicker!


	9. Red

**A/N:** Let's pretend that I shouldn't be turning _another_ Author's Note into an apology and get on with the fic, yes? I brought some of our favourite angst back into these scenes. Can't let you off too easy. One part was purely me going: 'Hey, I put that in the first chapter and _I _have to know what that meant!' Now smile at your computer screen, keep pretending I'm a good girl, and enjoy this looong chapter!

**&&**

**If you don't remember…**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I know who you are…Logan Cale." – pause – "Or should I say _Eyes Only?_" she countered.

His expression turned even smugger. "I know who you are too…" he replied, before adding, "452", on the end deliberately.

…

"You want answers. I have some and I can get more," Logan replied, looking up at Max from his seated position.

…

"Fine?" he searched for verification.

"Deal," she confirmed, waving her arms around. "But I stay in the loop on _everything_."

"Deal." He grinned and nodded before watching the raven-haired beauty spin around and leave.

**&&**

**Fogle Towers, Seattle, Washington, 2019.**

Logan turned his back to Max as he poured her glass of red wine. He had an impressive collection, but there was no point in owning the bottles if he didn't have anyone to share them with.

The crimson liquid fell into the glass in a fluid, simple motion. Logan's blue eyes peered beneath his small glasses to watch the almost jelly-like substance empty from the bottle. The last drops slid out of the neck and plunged down into the large pool of red. The quiet whispers of the liquid, as it bounced and reacted to the movement, were only the smallest of sounds, yet they were all to be heard in the hacker's apartment.

Max pursed her lips, her hyperaware senses going into overdrive.

When he whirled around again, Logan was wearing the most genuine of genuine smiles. Max never doubted that he was happy in her presence.

"So, tomorrow we will have to discuss the Webber case. I'd like to nail this guy before the weekend and he has the chance to make it past the border," he spoke with a tinge of excitement and pride, and Max also knew he was deeply happy in his 'job', like he was a secret superhero.

He sat the wineglass in front of where she was leaning against the bench. As he picked up his own, he gestured in cheers, and brought the rim to his lips.

Max knew it was coming. Her inward frown deepened as she watched him hurriedly pour the liquid past his lips. Her slender index finger merely traced the outer edge of the glass's bottom; she'd never been one for wine.

After spending so much time with Gary Hanson, the man who was supposed to be her father but preferred to be relishing in the honest pleasure he found in her emotional and physical pain, Max could never smell that distinct scent and not cringe or wince. Her former foster father stunk of red wine, or sometimes beer, every minute of the day, and the scent now making its way up her nostrils brought back memories she'd hoped were long gone. However, sometimes hoping wasn't enough. Burned into her brain was a picture, frozen, of her shrivelled up in the corner, terrified, and Gary towering over her, a wicked smile across his chapped lips, his heavy, wet breath blowing onto her pale face, the alcohol insulting her nostrils, as it was doing at present.

She winced reflexively, the action missed by Logan's eyes, as he was preoccupied with his drink. He placed the glass back down on the kitchen island, and the silence was broken again by the clinking sound the contact made.

Max lifted her face and allowed her gaze to meet his, eyes wiped of any pain she'd just been experiencing. No traces of tears, just a black mask. He never noticed the difference. He did, however, notice that she had been unusually quiet tonight. Usually she'd be smirking and exchanging witty ripostes with him.

His head tilted in examination, and he scrutinized her flawless face, which lead him back to his original objective.

Max noticed his inspecting gaze and kept hers focused on anything but him. The silence continued as she stared out into the living room, out the large panes of the window, to the big, wide world, before Logan cleared his throat. Her eyes snapped to his.

"Max, there's something I'd like to talk to you about," he stated in an unusually low, quiet voice. Her enhanced gaze picked up traces of sweat forming on his furrowed brow.

Finally, her cool voice spoke. "Yes?" was all she gave. It wasn't much; he couldn't know that she knew what he was doing… or maybe she needed to give him more credit.

His stare never wavered, the serene azure eyes that were best known for their appearance between red and blue banners on Eyes Only's streaming video bulletin. She held his gaze. "I was wondering if you'd have dinner with me next Friday," Logan offered, keeping his voice as collected as possible.

"Um, sure," Max replied, feigning confusion.

"But not an ordinary dinner," he interjected quickly.

_Oh, Christ,_ Max cursed to herself, wondering if he was always like this with women. "Logan…" she urged.

"Right." Logan silently agreed with her that he was acting strange. He nodded. "You know what I mean…" he added, hoping she'd fill out the rest.

_This is like we're fourteen or something_, she teased herself. Suddenly, her eyes went wide. In that small moment, it had sunk in, fallen on her shoulders – even though she thought she knew what to expect. This would be a huge step. How old was he anyway? Was she ready for this? She'd never even had a boyfriend. Why would anyone want to date someone as screwed up as her?

Max turned her body away and took a series of deep breaths. When she whirled back around, she didn't feel much better. Her eyes found an escape and her body took her in that direction. Her brain had the smallest amount of control, which told her body to run further and further away from there.

Logan watched her ordeal with a pair of curious eyes. Admittedly, not the response he was expecting. He was hoping for something less awkward and painful, if she were to reject him. Then again, he shouldn't be surprised considering the way he'd brought the subject up. _Stupid, stupid,_ he chastised, the thoughts running in circles.

After watching Max race out of the kitchen, he only heard the front door slam shut a millisecond later. So even if he wanted to chase after her, she'd beat him by miles. _Damn transgenic speed_, Logan cursed.

Meanwhile, Max had blurred to a spot a few blocks away, careless about the other people on the street who might curiously look on to her skill as it was quite late and most of the people were either drunk or bordering on it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Max toyed with a can rolling across the pathway, her foot kicking it every now and then as she pushed it along with her while she strolled down the street. The late night breeze was something she loved about Seattle. The air wasn't always the cleanest, nor was the ground beneath her feet, but, at this time of night, the lighting from the lampposts and the absence of post-Pulse Seattle's usual stench, gave a cool, peaceful atmosphere. She'd come to appreciate these kinds of things since moving to the city – one of the advantages of not needing sleep.

As time stretched on, the hours passed like minutes. The wind got chillier and her arms curled around her body, but not in an attempt to get warmer, rather to rid of her unremitting feeling of loneliness and bitterness.

Logan was a man, much older than her. He'd seen a lot, lived a lot, and was looking for someone for 'the rest of his life', as they said. He'd grown up in a well-equipped, respectable family, and had a job that showed him doing his part in the world (including his alter ego as Eyes Only _and_ as a journalist). Logan could offer Max everything a girl could hope for – security, love, warmth, and family. He was exactly who her father would like to see her end up with, Robert had always said she belonged with a more mature man.

However, Max felt a nagging resistance in the back of her head, telling her she shouldn't settle for a man she didn't love. If this was going to be serious for him, it had to be for her. At the moment, she didn't know what she was looking for. After being in Seattle for so many months, she'd only just begun to 'find herself'.

Even if she went to him, would he make her _happy_? Isn't that what mattered? Not money or children, but just happiness.

Her mind didn't have an answer to this all-important question.

Max's disappointment at such a revelation – that she was answerless – left her roaming the same streets over and over again, meandering until she solved all her problems. Then she was assaulted with memories, pieces of her heart usually only dug up in her dreams – that was when she actually managed to get sleep.

----

_Unit 2 sat in a circle, the ten children all looking giddy as they looked around at each other._

_599 cleared his throat and all attention was on him. He grinned and sucked in a breath. "The outside world…they call it a 'utopia'," – the children oohed and ahhed at the word – "No rules. No barracks. No drills. No tests."_

_452 felt a thrilling shiver run down her spine, brought on by the thought of such an amazing place. Her grin was wide._

_Upon seeing their reactions, 599 continued, speaking in a low tone that created alluring pictures in his friends' heads. "It's like having rec time all day long. You can play escape-and-evade, but just for fun, with no limits. Everyone wears pretty clothes and when they go to the dorms at night, they have the sweetest dreams. Each person has a goal, something happy, and they are able to achieve their dream."_

_210's posture straightened, shooting up with excitement. "Tell us about the colour-rays, 599."_

_452 watched as her brother, 471, beside her echoed 210's request, his eagerness also radiating. "Yes, the colour-rays!"_

_599 chuckled softly. "The colour-rays…" he begins, adding in pauses for suspense, even on the lighter subjects. "They spurt across the blue sky, gradually appearing and disappearing. No one has actually watched the ray materialize or vanish. It works like a map, except it lies over our heads. It leads one person to their wildest dream. Some people have followed it. No, many, many people have followed it, yet only the **chosen ones** make it to the end of the colour-ray."_

_Even though he'd heard the story a thousand times, 205 had to ask: "How does one become chosen?"_

_599 nodded, as he always did when they asked the question. "Your heart. Purity of mind. But most of all, your faith."_

_452 sighed, wondering if she possessed any of the '**chosen**' qualities._

_There were often more questions about the colour-rays, but none of the kids were asking tonight. Not that they ever got sick of hearing the story, but rather they were all suddenly eager about something else._

_"People get married?" the blonde-haired 701 asked. The others focused all their attention on 599's answer, and he grinned back, knowing this was their favourite story._

_"Yes," 599 answered, his handsome face brightening, along with his tone. "Love is the most unbelievable part of this utopia. Anyone can experience it. You just have to find the right person."_

_"Or people?" 210's small voice questioned._

_"Of course. You can love lots of people," he stated. "With this love you can make a home. A family."_

_The word sent the kids into another frenzy of gasps and oohs._

_452 shared a secret smile with 494. They both knew they'd already found their family – in each other._

---- _  
_

The memory was extremely vivid. Crisp quality, right in her head. She remembered how everything looked through her eyes and her somewhat naïve thoughts. It amazed Max now. What was most astonishing was 494, and the beautiful smile he wore, which complemented his dazzling pair of hazel eyes. Max then remembered her _own_ grin. She hadn't smiled like that in a very long time. So genuinely, so full of hope and content in the person and place she was in right then.

Her heart soared as some of that hope returned. She wondered if she might ever beam like that again.

Happiness. Maybe that was the key to everything. Or was it hope?

Max groaned, realising the position she'd found herself in yet again. The never-ending circle her thoughts had spiralled into another time. As she was pulling out of it, another memory came to her. This memory was from a much earlier time than the previous.

----

_Green. All she could see was green._

_It had been distinct in the beginning, but as her running speed heightened, her surroundings had blurred together to form one colour. Green. The tall trees had become one haze. Gone were the tree trunks and the brown of the dirt beneath her boots._

_She kept running. A satisfied smile permanently etched on her small, round face, her full lips were curved, revealing a set of perfect white teeth._

_It was like there were no boundaries. Like she wasn't really trying to outrun a group of enemy soldiers._

_Escape-and-evade...that was the name. 452 figured that if it wasn't Manticore, it would be called something lighter, something that would show how much fun it was to be free – running._

_452 felt like she was born for this. The shortest of short strands of hair on her head were even enjoying it. The cool wind breaking as it made contact with her petite body gave her a rush, a thrilling sensation._

_Her feet barely made a noise as they carried her forward through the grass at a breakneck speed. In fact, they hardly touched the ground. Yes… it was like she was flying._

_452 was enjoying herself so much, she let out a roar of laughter. Although, it wasn't much of a roar – higher pitched, definitely. She weaved between the brown tree trunks and leaped over the lush bushes that attempted to slow her run._

_Her eyes were still smearing everything in sight. Unfocused, due to the happy expression on her face that had pulled the inside of her cheeks up. Then something came up in her enhanced vision. Something out of place. She zoomed in to see an object hidden behind a log._

_At last, she'd been successfully slowed to a light jog. She approached the object cautiously; unsure of traps Command might have set up._

_With all her attention centred on the subject behind the log, she wasn't prepared for the noise made when she stepped on a long stick. The twig snapped beneath her boot, and in the stillness of the forest, it was a relatively loud noise._

_A small blonde head snapped up to peer over the fallen tree._

_452's heartbeat slowed and a sigh of relief escaped her dry lips. "Oh," she breathed so the person could barely hear her. "494, it's you."_

_494 squinted and closed his vision in on her. "452?" he called to his fellow unit member. She noticed the smallness that was seldom found in his voice. _

_452 didn't know 494 that well. Even though they'd been in Unit 2 together for a while, they hadn't bonded. She was put off by his outward personality. He was always smirking and cracking harsh jokes. She also never liked how he was often competing with her 'brother', 599, for position as alpha male._

_452 understood that it was in his genes – 599 and him probably possessed similar animal DNA – but that didn't mean she liked his demeanour._

_494 had always thought 452 was a princess. She clung to 599's arm like she didn't have her own mind. He wanted to see the spark in the female X5 alight. He knew she had a strong personality; she just had to bring it out._

_She frowned and he returned it._

"_Why are you hiding there?" 452 queried. "Are you evading?"_

"_No," came 494's brusque reply. "I'm injured," he admitted a short while later, tone softened._

_Immediately her frown was wiped away and replaced with a concerned expression._

"_I don't need help," 494 insisted, knowing what she was thinking. However, she didn't show any signs of moving closer to him. He wondered if she even wanted to help._

_Then 452 ignored him, knowing it was natural for the X5 males to want to appear tough. She walked over and lowered into a crouch on his side of the log._

_She looked down at his perfect face beside her, but her scrutinising was cut short as he cleared his throat and raised an arm to gesture to his injured leg._

_A very large patch of his khaki pants had been stained red, and 452 noticed most of it looked quite dry. She shuffled so she was now before his harmed limb._

"_How long have you been here?" she questioned worriedly._

"_A while," he retorted, flashing that smirk he knew she hated so much._

_Her eyes gleamed in anger for a split-second, and then she went back to his leg. Her fingers pried past the hem of his pants. She pulled the end up slowly, looking back at him for confirmation first. After his nod, she pulled it back further, over the weeping wound. She noticed him wince and suck in a pained breath. _

"_Sorry," she whispered sincerely before resuming her aid. 452 lowered her head, gazing at the injury from a closer view. "Ouch," she reflexively mumbled._

_He smiled softly at her empathy, though it only lasted a second._

_452 was tempted to ask how he was wounded, but she knew enough about him to be able to assume he wouldn't want to share. So she settled on putting her tiny arms underneath his body. _

_He squirmed and pulled away. "What are you doing?" he cried in confusion._

_Now it was her smiling serenely. "Helping you."_

"_You mean…" he trailed off, still frowning. At her nod, he realised she was actually going to pick him up and carry him to safety. His lips parted in disbelief. Her acts of kindness were affecting him, making his heart beat a little faster. He could feel his tough persona wearing away already. It wasn't romantic, but it _was_ love. _

_They both felt a moment of connectedness. An unexplainable passing of emotions and thoughts. _

_She gazed into his mesmerising eyes, which were open like a book eager to be read. _

_It was green. All she could see was green._

---- _  
_

Max had stopped walking completely. Her head fell, mahogany hair spilling over. She swallowed, feeling the difficulty throughout her body.

That was the moment that had defined her life. The moment that always made Max feel like her life might be worth living.

She had let Alec in that day. Into her heart where no one – not even Zack – had been allowed.

Looking back, she realised how hard that would be for her now, even if it were Alec. She really had shut everyone out since losing Alec. Not even Rachel or Robert had wormed in as deep as Alec.

Maybe it was because they had been kids…and it _was_ Manticore. Growing up with no sense of how to deal with relationships, she couldn't trust anyone at all at first. Then it happened, out of nowhere. Then there where all the hard times they had faced. Times darker than most people could ever dream of.

Memories of these times threatened to resurface, but finally her control forced them down. She couldn't deal with any of that now.

Max walked on, her feet dragging her body lazily. Her mind was miles away…until she felt a presence behind her.

For the second time tonight, her senses were going into danger mode. Though this time was more serious. Her hairs stood on their ends, stomach contents threatened to rise to her throat.

She resumed walking and kept her eyes peeled. A minute later, after noises behind her that were definitely there, Max confidently concluded she was being followed, and for some reason she couldn't bring herself to turn around.

Is it possible she was genuinely in fear? Impossible, she was trained for these situations.

Her feet picked up a faster pace, pushing on to get home quicker. Then she realised – she couldn't go home. If it _was_ Manticore, she would be easily giving away her location.

Max's teeth clamped down on her bottom lip as she cursed inwardly. She had no choice now. Fight or flight.

After a second of deliberation, she decided on flight, instantly putting her plan in motion as she blurred forward. She ran through the streets, still not looking back, and taking a confusing trail. Running through streets several times over and winding through houses.

Max continued her game for a long while before deciding she was safe. She looked up at the tall building before her. _What is that?_ A voice in her head was very curious.

_Ah, _she sighed when she realised. The famous tourist building from pre-Pulse times. The Space Needle.

"Perfect," Max whispered to herself as she entered the Space Needle.

When she reached the top, she couldn't help but step outside. She walked forward to a safe distance from the edge and looked out. The world was at her feet.

She put out her arms and felt the breeze lap at her body.

Until morning came, that was how she stayed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A Few Hours South of Seattle, Washington, 2019.**

Twenty minutes into his usual morning jog, Alec stopped for a break. He was at the centre of the town, where all the nicest shops and restaurants were.

He'd been in the town for a few weeks, and by the end of this weekend, he hoped to come to a decision on where he should go next. He didn't mind it here, but he had nothing keeping him in town, which meant he should just leave.

Most of the people here were rich snobs who played the pre-Pulse. Maybe that's why Alec kind of liked it. It wasn't some grief-stricken bombsite with hobos clinging to his legs, begging for pennies.

He sighed and glanced around. It wasn't that early, but there still weren't many people around. The traffic was slow and with all this shops, the only people were women out browsing for new shoes.

Alec heard a group of musical giggles across the road. A group of teenage girls, probably just younger than him, were walking en masse. His piercing hazel eyes scanned their faces, seeking something – or someone – he knew wasn't there.

He couldn't help it though. It had become his worst habit. Looking for anyone who was inhumanly beautiful and possibly one of his kind. Of course, there were lots of beautiful people wherever he went; he just never got a vibe from them.

Alec knew one day he'd find one of them, and he'd recognise them immediately. That's why he'd always check. Just in case. He sighed when he realised they were probably dead. _She_ was probably dead.

These girls weren't his kind…if he were talking about Manticore. A smirk lit up his handsome face as he moved forward to cross the road. At the same time, one of the girls, a gorgeous brunette, waved and also went to cross the road. The difference between Alec and the girl was that _he_ saw the yellow car speeding down the street. She didn't because she was too busy waving and giggling.

He frowned and eyed the situation carefully. "Hey!" he called to her.

A second later he realised she wasn't going turn around, and the car didn't look like it was slowing either. He blurred across the street and took her in his arms, tackling her onto the safe concrete path before the yellow car zipped past, breaking the wind where they'd both just been at an incredible speed.

Alec sighed and moved off of her small body.

The brunette gasped and didn't change her expression. Her glossy pink lips curled into an 'o', trimmed eyebrows pulled up high, curving slightly.

He tipped his head to the side. "You all right?" he asked as his arm stretched to help her up.

The girl sucked in a breath and let her tiny hand slip into his. "I guess," she whispered, still sounding shocked.

Her friends had gathered in an almost circle around them. Then a couple of them raced over to her side.

Alec gave her a charming smile. "Would you like to get a drink?" he offered with a double meaning.

She picked up on the hint that he didn't just want to help her. She suddenly felt flustered and her perfect cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, now it was in embarrassment. She barely managed a nod, between being so dazzled by her saviour and almost dying in the space of a minute.

His grin widened and he put his hand on her back, before leading her to a nice coffee shop. "What's your name?"

"Rachel," she answered timidly. "Yours?" she queried, looking up at him with gorgeous brown eyes.

Alec's smile faded. He thought about Manticore, his past – who he _really_ was – and it just didn't seem right. "I'm Ben," he lied.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Fogle Towers, Seattle, Washington, 2019.**

"I'm coming!" Logan shouted angrily to the person almost bashing his door down.

When he got there and finally opened the door, he wasn't surprised to find a rather guilty-looking transgenic staring back at him.

"Max…" he greeted, chuckling inwardly.

"Logan, I'm sorry. I was a little crazy the other night," Max admitted. She pleaded to him with her plump lips pushed into a pout.

His chuckle verbalised. "Me too," he added as he let her into his apartment.

Max strolled into the living room and sat down. "The Webber case?" she suggested.

Logan nodded as took his place at his computer. "We can still do it tonight if you want," he offered.

She breathed deeply, ensuring he couldn't see, then smiled softly when he looked over at her. "We'll have dinner after?" she proposed

The hacker grinned broadly. "Perfect," he agreed.

**The next day…**

Max sat on her bed, phone in hand, legs folded and tucked beneath one another. As she waited for the other person to answer, she twirled the curly cord attached to the device.

"Rach!" she called into the phone upon hearing a half-hearted hello from her sister.

"_Oh! Oh! Sam…_" an excited voice returned.

Max realised she should _always_ turn down the phone's volume before calling Rachel. "Someone's extra happy today," Max teased.

Rachel giggled. "_I have the _best_ story to share._"

"Let me guess…" Max began, grinning sillily. "A boy, possibly?"

The younger sister chuckled her high-pitched laugh again. "_When is it ever not!_" she agreed.

Max sighed in mock-exasperation. "Well…lay it on me."

"_Ben. He's 19. Gorgeous short sandy-blonde hair. Perfect red lips. Cute freckles over his nose._ Amazing_ body…_" She paused to sigh wholeheartedly. "_And the eyes. Bright pools of hazel green. Oh, Sam, he's perfect!"_

Max had tuned out though. She wasn't jealous, no. Max could get any guy she wanted. She just gave off vibes that told them she was unavailable. Her lips pursed, brow puckered. Then she regained composure. "Lucky girl, hey?" came her voice, fighting to sound more than half-hearted.

"_Uh-huh. I don't know how though. He's too good for me,_" she admitted sadly.

"As if!" Max cried into the receiver. "You know you're a catch and a half."

"_What is that, anyway?_" Rachel joked.

"A very good thing," the raven-haired transgenic retorted seriously.

Rachel snorted mockingly.

"So how long?" Max asked.

"_Not very. Second date,_" Rachel replied.

Max shrieked, "And you didn't tell me?!"

"_We haven't talked much!_"

Max made a contemplative noise. "Alright," she allowed.

"_You coming back soon?_" Rachel asked.

"'Course. Holidays are coming up, aren't they? Plus things are getting hectic here." It was true. She knew Manticore were now hot on her heels. Getting away would be good.

"_Sweet. __See you soon then?_"

"Certainly," Max replied before they hung up.

**&&**

There you go. Now be nice. No one's allowed out of here without a review. I have cookies? Yeah...I got you now.


	10. Him

**A/N: **I'm so sorry to make you all wait. I didn't feel like I had a big following, which meant I needed to take a break and just improve my writing till I knew I could give this story what I owed it.

I have edited the previous chapters, so my bad grammar and whatever is pretty much gone. Some sentences and things may still be weird, but I didn't want to change anything if it didn't need it. So, if you want to read the fic over again, I recommend it, or you can just go off this summary.

**&&**

If you don't remember (wouldn't surprise me)…

**CHAPTER NINE.**

"_Ben. He's 19. Gorgeous short sandy-blonde hair. Perfect red lips. Cute freckles over his nose. Amazing body…"_ She paused to sigh wholeheartedly. "_And the eyes. Bright pools of hazel green. Oh, Sam, he's perfect!_"

Max had tuned out though. She wasn't jealous, no. Max could get any guy she wanted. She just gave off vibes that told them she was unavailable. Her lips pursed, brow puckered. Then she regained composure. "Lucky girl, hey?" came her voice, fighting to sound more than half-hearted.

…

"I was wondering if you'd have dinner with me next Friday," Logan offered, keeping his voice as collected as possible.

…

The memory was extremely vivid. Crisp quality, right in her head. She remembered how everything looked through her eyes and her somewhat naïve thoughts. It amazed Max now. What was most astonishing was 494, and the beautiful smile he wore, which complemented his dazzling pair of hazel eyes. Max then remembered her _own_ grin. She hadn't smiled like that in a very long time. So genuinely, so full of hope and content in the person and place she was in right then.

…

"_You coming back soon?_" Rachel asked.

"'Course. Holidays are coming up, aren't they? Plus things are getting hectic here." It was true. She knew Manticore were now hot on her heels. Getting away would be good.

"_Sweet. See you soon then?_"

"Certainly," Max replied before they hung up.

**&&**

**Apartment in Sector 9, Seattle, Washington, 2019.**

Garments hooked on to clothes hangers were discarded carelessly onto the bed in the middle of her room, building a pile of dark-coloured material. She occasionally grunted as she threw each part of her wardrobe over her head.

"Boo, what _are_ you doing?" Original Cindy questioned from the doorway, her eyebrows raised slightly as she looked on in amusement.

Max huffed and spun her head around. "Looking for a good pair of shoes," she answered, a frown puckering her brow, and her lips pursed in concentration.

"Sugar, take no offence, but why would _you_ need a good pair of shoes?"

"Well I'm going back home for the holidays, and while I have _some_ clothing remaining in my closet there, I have no shoes." She shrugged and turned back to her wardrobe.

Original Cindy's expression became quizzical, probably picturing her in an elegant frock accompanied with stilettos, Max figured. The frizzy-haired woman chortled and Max shook her head, knowing she'd been right.

"Wanna help?" Max cried, sounding like she did need an extra hand, but O.C. merely walked out and went back to her room. A disapproving noise escaped the transgenic.

She got down on her knees and began digging through the mess scattered in the bottom corners of the closet.

"This isn't mine…" She sent a lacy tank top flying backwards, closer to the door than her bed where all the other items had landed.

"Hey, that's Original Cindy's!" declared Max's roommate as she returned.

Max was still clawing her way through the never-ending pile, feeling too stressed to throw back a reply.

O.C. walked over and placed a rectangular box atop the large pile on Max's mattress. "Bring 'em back in good condition, boo," she warned before exiting again.

Max rose to her feet, almost tripping over her khaki pants spread lazily across her floor, and stalked over to the shoebox on her bed, giving it a challenging glare. Her hands reached out and made contact with the cardboard before bringing the box up to eye-level. How fortunate she was to share the same shoe size as her roommate.

She lifted off the lid, letting it cascade to the floor, and peeked inside. A gasp fell from her lips.

"Thanks O.C.!" she yelled, grinning widely.

----------------------------------------------------------------

**Berrisford Residence, Washington, 2019.**

The door burst open, pushing her and her trailing aura of enthusiasm through the threshold hurriedly. One might think it was eagerness that shoved the door out of the way, unaware of her super strength.

"I'm h—oof! Rach?" Max peeked down at the mass of brown locks that topped the figure clinging to her body.

"Sam! Merry Christmas!" Rachel squealed, tearing herself away.

"We still have a week, sis," Max reminded her with a laugh.

They both giggled and hugged incessantly on the way up and down the stairs with Max's bags. The transgenic put on a show of struggle as she lugged her suitcases to her old room.

"How does it feel – being home?" asked Rachel, the obvious subtext leering in her words.

Max's head tilted up, taking her attention away from the bag she'd unzipped and was now unpacking. One eyebrow raised, eyes peering carefully, Max said, "I've been here for," – a check of the watch – "eleven minutes. Hardly beginning the process of settling in yet."

Rachel grinned, her face glowing more than usual. "I just miss you, Sam."

Max had turned back to the articles in her suitcase. "It feels good," she answered. "Good to be home."

When she'd completed the unpacking process, Max suggested some "Rach and Sam time," starting with a trip to the indoor pool.

The sisters splashed and flipped and held silly contests, such as holding their breath for as long as possible, like they used to when they were younger. The fun finished and Rachel and Max lazed on their towels alongside each other, chatting quietly.

"—And then he said, '_I've never felt this way before, Rachel. You're my everything,_' and I melted into a thick, gooey puddle of goo."

Max frowned. "Gooey puddle of goo?" she repeated, but Rachel was too busy daydreaming to defend her words.

The transgenic wouldn't deny that she loathed listening to her sister gush over and over about this "perfect man". She was just slightly envious – but not jealous – and it wasn't just that.

Max was accustomed, and very content, to her role as a friend not involving listening to a friend repeatedly list everything she loved about her boyfriend, and all the sweet things he did for her, and how they met and the time th—No, and certainly not her own sister.

Of course anything remotely close to this kind of interaction with Max had come from Rachel. She was just like that – a little naïve, but desperate to cling on to something as mind-blowing as true love and the tales of the heart. Max was a sceptic when it came to something like love. She'd seen, felt, and heard enough to make her resent and want to ignore the concept.

"Hello? Are you even listening?" called Rachel to Max.

"Yes, dork."

"Then what did I just say?" Rachel questioned, gently narrowing her eyes. She couldn't pull off the evil look, no matter how much she tried.

The answer rolled off Max's tongue with ease. "'_Then he asked me for a drink and I was blushing profusely as he asked my name._'"

"Damn you're good."

Max flashed her teeth. "You know it."

"And I can presume that you're still as single as ever…"

Max had to acknowledge Rachel's great ability to subtly change subjects here, there, everywhere, with no shame whatsoever. "Actually…"

The younger girl's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "You have a boy?"

"I'm going steady with this one b—man," she reluctantly let out.

"Don't be a hypocrite, Sam. I won't question why you didn—"

"I don't want Dad to know," she admitted, "…yet."

Rachel knew not to push when her sister's strange inner motives shone through in odd behaviours. She sighed inwardly, then chirped, "Well come on, we ain't got all day. Dad'll be home soon. What's he like? What's his name? Saaaam."

----------------------------------------------------------------

A harmony of musical sounds filled the Berrisford house as Max and Rachel synchronised their chimes of laughter and the sounds emanated as their fingers flew over piano keys. Max lifted her hands away from the keys for a short minute to expertly mock their old piano teacher, Mr. Grady, inciting a high-pitched belly laugh from her sister.

Robert poked his head into the doorway, before turning to lean his body against the wooden pane. He watched on, amusement lighting up his eyes and a frown wrinkling his brow, with an intent gaze fixed on his daughters.

"You're far too noisy," he commented, his soft voice battling with their racket.

Max, of course, heard every syllable, unlike her sister, who stared dumbfounded at Max after she stopped their fun. "Sorry, Dad," mumbled Max.

Rachel whipped her head around. "Oh! You were working! And we were making all that ruckus!"

His frown broke, letting a lively smile spread over his face and crinkle the corners of his eyes gently. "Never mind my work!" he assured. "Seeing you two together, happy, again is far more imperative. Though, I think Paula and Eliza could use your help with the decorations."

Rachel shot out of her seat in excitement, latching onto Max's wrist and heaving her out the door – just missing an amused Robert – and bouncing her way into the manor.

Eliza, a good friend of the late Mrs. Berrisford, who always encouraged and helped Robert keeping his social life abloom, merely rolled her eyes at their entrance and stopped her work on the alterations to Robert's suit. "I'll go get the boxes from my car."

While they waited, Rachel, bubbling vibrantly as her ideas burst out, chattered to Max. The latter wondered if the former had any control over her motor mouth.

"Ooh! And those will go perfectly with the ribbons, which will also drape across the staircase rail. Can't you see it?"

Max nodded.

Rachel looked around, and then turned back, allowing for Max to see the slight narrowing of her eyes.

"Something up?"

"I want mistletoe! Everywhere. But our ceiling is…high!" she marvelled.

Max raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Under the staircase, maybe?" She gazed at Max expectantly.

"Um, considering the ratio of adults to teenagers, it may not seem befitting."

Rachel grinned cheekily. "Like _some_ of those oldies won't go looking for a secret place to snag a Christmas smooch! Oh, can't you just imagine Mr. and Mrs. Harvey _accidentally_ stumbling upon mistletoe?"

"EW!" Max cried. "You're sick."

"Don't you remember where his hand was at the Mercidyne Ball in 2016?" Rachel asked, feigning a serious expression of innocence and curiosity.

"No! No, n—" Max began before Eliza burst through the door, arms barely managing the weight of three tall boxes.

Max and Rachel hurried over to help, and within a minute, they were starting their interior design a la the usual Berrisford family shindigs.

"Found your mistletoe!" Max exclaimed.

Rachel sprinted over and seized a few before running out of the manor.

With a roll of her eyes, Max carried on with her wreath-hanging. As she went back to the table of boxes, one sprig of mistletoe caught her eye. It was wrapped delicately in a shimmering gold ribbon, opposing the deep scarlet the others had. She curled her fingers around it and lifted it up closer into her view.

Her thumb ran over a leaf and her thoughts flicked to Logan. She hadn't told him she was going back home for the holidays. Heck, she hadn't even told him about the Berrisfords.

It was a protection thing. She didn't tell anyone anything she didn't need to. With O.C. and Kendra, that piece of information was unavoidably necessary in sharing since she spent so much time with them and didn't want them to add "suspicious phone calls" to their ever-growing list of shady things Max did and had.

"Come and look at my sneaky hiding places, Sammy!" Rachel's cry broke in.

She dropped the sprig and trotted off to her sister.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Max glared at the selection of dresses spread out on her bed. The light blue was out of the question. Black was overdone. Knee-length was too high. Her new navy gown was too hugging.

"I'm going to shower and get ready!" Rachel called from the bathroom.

"Yeah, yeah," Max mumbled in reply.

She had to look conservative, yet covertly sexy. And of course, doused in Christmas spirit.

Red?

She spun back to her wardrobe and fingered through the fabrics again.

"Nope. Nope. Noooope."

Her fingers stopped. Red. Long, but not too long. Cute straps. Not too tight.

"Bingo, Sammy," she murmured to herself.

Just as she was sliding the straps off the hanger, the doorbell rang.

She wormed her arms out of the sleeves of her jacket. The doorbell chorused again.

She rolled her eyes and tossed the garment onto her dresser. After a pause, she gave in. The doorbell didn't ring again as she made her way downstairs. _Thankfully this person found patience_, she thought to herself.

Max hid an evil glare at all the people setting up for the party, so many of them capable of answering the door themselves.

Annoyed, she pulled the handle and guided the large door open.

And brown met hazel.

**&&**

Yeah, I know it's short.


	11. Her

**SURPRISE! **Here's the second part to the last chapter. :) They're both short because it's split up.

You'll notice a lot of this is written with more subjectivity and perspective as far as the characters. So take notice of the little details.

**&&**

Previously…

"_You have a boy?"_

"_I'm going steady with this one b—man," Max reluctantly let out._

…

_Annoyed, she pulled the handle and guided the large door open._

_And brown met hazel._

**&&**

**Berrisford Residence, Washington, 2019.**

For a short few seconds, Max was taken back. And he seemed to be the same.

Then her enhanced brain kicked into gear. She mentally checked off all the qualities on Rachel's list. Yep, this was _the _Ben.

He was a tad taller than her and dressed in a black pinstriped suit, blonde hair slicked back.

"Hi."

"Hi," he returned. He smirked, but only softly, so that it was just a cheeky tug of one corner of his mouth. "You gonna let me in?"

Her body was thrumming with an indistinct emotion, so she only had enough composure to give him a nod and step out of the way. She felt self-conscious in her baggy, informal attire.

"I've, uh, heard a lot about you," she quipped, quirking an eyebrow.

He surveyed the manor, painted red and green in decorations with small splashes of gold, and then flicked his head back to her. "And I you."

Max closed the door, and was about to send him into the kitchen to her father, but when she faced him again, she was merely greeted by a glimpse of his back before he disappeared out of her sight. "Rude," she grumbled under her breath.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"You should've seen his face, Sammy!" Robert boomed as he fought the howl of laughter bubbling in his throat. "Then I told him I was joking and he looked like someone had just told him he'd won lottery!"

Max watched as Ben dipped his head to murmur something in Rachel's ear, causing her to blush a deep scarlet that made her look even more radiant. The sweet gesture was the epitome of intimacy. Love.

Max wanted to barf.

_Sickening_, she commented to herself inwardly.

But she was happy for her sister. She was just protective, and very wary about this Ben guy. He was too…perfect for Rachel.

Robert missed the interaction as he was too busy wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Ah," he sighed. "He's a good boy."

Ben smiled at him, and gave a little nod of thanks.

The four of them were in the kitchen, all seated except for Max.

"Do your father a favour, Sammy, and get me some water."

Max would've smiled in the contentment she always filled with upon seeing her father so happy, but she was feeling too bitter…and O.C.'s shoes were pinching her toes painfully.

"So, Sam, Rachel told me you're in Seattle, what's it like?" Ben inquired politely, making Rachel beam up at him.

"Dingy," she replied, her manners being the complete opposite of his with her gaze averted, and her voice monotonous as she set a glass of water down before her father.

Rachel cleared her throat. "I think she means that the, uh, Pulse affected it a lot more than it did for us, here."

Max nodded noncommittally, which made Robert frown.

"Sam, don't be so impolite," he chastised.

Max forced a smile, letting its falsity drip obviously. "I'm sorry," she amended, discreetly mocking. "Excuse me." And with that, she left the room to go adjust her shoes.

Alec looked around awkwardly. He wanted to apologise for his role in the exchange, but felt like there would be too much irony in that. At that thought, he suppressed a chuckle.

Robert sighed and rose from his seat, following after Sam.

"Sorry about my sister," Rachel mumbled, gazing up at him. "Sometimes I just don't understand her. I know being here has changed her, but…there's still something in her from her past." She paused. "She doesn't talk about it much, but I know she came from an orphanage, and—Oh, I'm rambling about things that wouldn't interest you. Excuse me. I'm just worried about her."

Alec smiled softly. "I don't mind listening. Plus, you're adorable when you're worried."

Rachel did that beaming thing again, and lifted her head to his, holding it a safe distance away. He knew what she was doing and took the bait, descending his lips onto hers in a light kiss. As she sighed into it, he felt the unworthiness flood through his being.

"Come on, let's see if I can find some of that mistletoe," he suggested playfully, tugging on her hand.

----------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, the Berrisford Christmas party was in full swing. Christmas carols floated through the air, making easy listening to accompany the happy chitchat of the guests, all of them donned in at least one item of clothing that was red or green.

Max was grateful to realise Rachel's mistletoe was mainly being used by her. But then again, ungrateful, because it was gross seeing her little sister macking on some guy, and because, that guy was who he was. She had unwittingly decided she didn't like him.

"Where's Sam?" Max picked up on Susan Derrick's voice from the other side of the room. Thankful for the tall people surrounding her, she ducked into the nearby piano room, eager to avoid the old woman seeking her.

She carefully shut the door behind her and debated whether or not to lock it. No, she wouldn't stay long. She just needed time out. Plus, she wouldn't want anyone to get suspicious if they did come looking for her in here.

She squeezed her eyes shut and spun around to press her back against the door. She wanted to sink to the ground, but her dress restricted most movements. Her feet were killing her.

"Sam…" His murmur dragged her name out. It was almost a purr.

Her eyes flicked open. "Ben."

She sauntered over to him, eyes narrowing as she made her way to stand in front of him. "You don't like me much, do you?" he drawled, lips tracing a smirk across his face.

Max shrugged nonchalantly. "Haven't seen much to lead me anywhere else." She wore a fake smile. A guttural sound of irritation escaped her, shrieking in annoyance. "Where's Rachel?"

"Your dad called her out to help with something. Left me here." He glanced upwards.

She followed his gaze. "Oh, kill me now. No."

"Christmas rules, Max." He winked.

"As if, you sleaze, I wouldn't do that to my s—"

His arm snaked around to rest his hand on her back. In the shortest millisecond. And she could barely register the push he gave her towards him before his lips were on hers. All in one second so that she couldn't finish her words.

She couldn't move even if she pulled out her transgenic strength. He'd trapped her. The jackass.

Because she was a low, weak – oh, so very weak – human being, she gave in for a short moment.

He was a hella good kisser, that's for sure.

But then Max's composure returned, and she pulled back, happy to realise that he let her do so, though his hand remained on her back, as if it were its normal position.

"What the hell did you call me?" she spluttered.

He blinked, then his eyes glazed into a faraway look, like he was retracing his steps, before recognition lit his face. "Oh," he said as a grin played over his lips.

Bewilderment washed over her face as she panicked. She stumbled back a couple of steps, her usual grace now missing, and the removal of his body warmth left her colder.

Her eyebrows were pushed together so hard it almost hurt. Her mouth hung open. "Ah—di—ye—hu—wha—"

The blonde pursed his lips and stared carefully at her.

Her eyes closed for a brief moment as she blew out a heavy breath then looked back up at him. "You…"

His lips tensed to smile, eager for her happy exclamation.

"SON OF A—"

_Spoke too soon_, he reprimanded himself mentally.

"Alec? You're dating my sister? You're here! You—you—UGH! Too much. _Too_ much."

Max met his gaze again, before she stalked over to him and wrapped her arms around his body.

"I missed you."

"Now, there's the Maxie I was waiting for."

She retreated slightly. "How long have you…?"

Alec grinned. "From the moment I laid eyes on you, Max."

"Oh, it's so good to see you again. To hear _you_ saying my name."

"Good, 'cause you had me scared that you're extreme hatred of me would steal my chance to get you alone to talk about this."

"As if I could hate you, Alec," she drawled.

He nodded in understanding. "Just my alter ego."

She chortled as she wormed her way out of his arms. Then, the cheerful ambience disappeared as all the amusement drained from her face. "You're dating _my sister_." She inhaled sharply. "Could you be any _stupider_? She's just an innocent girl!" she shouted.

Alec put his hands out in a calm, diplomatic manner. "Max…it's not like—"

"How could you? You're going to ruin her life! What if she gets hurt?"

"You can't accuse me of something like that! I would never intentionally hurt her. And it's not like I've done anything worse than you have!" he howled back.

"No! I've protected her!"

"You involved her long before I did. If anyone's endangering her, it's you!"

A creak of the door was lost in the rumble of their verbal battle.

"You have to stay away from her! I can't let you hurt her!"

"What the hell is your pro—"

"Guys?" Rachel cut in.

Their gazes flicked to the confused girl.

**&&**

Cookies and hugs to anyone who reviews both chapters!


	12. Liar

Ugh, time goes fast.

Yes, chapters only take me a couple of days to write, but rest assured, I've been working behind the scenes, too. The final chapters are finally fleshed out and I must say I'm pretty excited. No, I'm waaaaaaaaaaaaay excited. The cliffhangers should ease up, but no promises. Actually I can't promise anything; this story guides _me_ a lot of the time.

**&&**

Previously…

"_Alec? You're dating my sister? You're here! You—you—UGH! Too much. Too much."_

_Max met his gaze again, before she stalked over to him and wrapped her arms around his body._

"_I missed you."_

"_Now, there's the Maxie I was waiting for."_

_She retreated slightly. "How long have you…?"_

_Alec grinned. "From the moment I laid eyes on you, Max."_

…

"_You involved her long before I did. If anyone's endangering her, it's you!"_

_A creak of the door was lost in the rumble of their verbal battle._

"_You have to stay away from her! I can't let you hurt her!"_

"_What the hell is your pro—"_

"_Guys?" Rachel cut in._

_Their gazes flicked to the confused girl._

**&&**

**Berrisford Residence, Washington, 2019.**

Rachel hurried her father along as she presented a special Christmas gift to Robert's colleague, whom had tutored her as a favour the past few months. Even the conversation afterwards seemed to drag on.

"Well, this is simply lovely. Too much, in my opinion," said the intelligent scientist, Brian Winters. Rachel remembered growing up with his son, Martin.

"No, not at all. You deserve it. I insist. And you're very welcome."

OK, maybe she was a bit eager to get back to her gorgeous boyfriend.

"Rachel, sweetheart, Susan Derrick's been wanting to talk to you and your sister all night," Robert pushed covertly, raising his eyebrows gently.

Rachel rolled her eyes in a Max-like way. "I'll find Sam later, okay?"

"Sooner rather than later," he chided through his teeth, smiling playfully in spite of his tone, assuring his colleague the conversation wasn't personal enough to reach any level of awkwardness – or so Robert hoped. He actually just wanted to let his daughter run along and have her own fun, and used the gossiping old woman as a faux escape.

Rachel chuckled, nodding and placing a hand on his shoulder as if to say _I've got it covered_ in their affectionate father-daughter way. She inclined her head to the other man. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Winters. I hope you enjoy your night," she wished politely.

Brian couldn't help but be won over yet again. He grinned with pride like she was his own daughter. He had to admit Robert and himself had done good jobs with their kids – Robert as a widowed father and Brian as a father to his one son.

He'd always thought she'd be good for his Martin.

Rachel waved goodbye and strode over to the piano room, where she'd left Ben some twenty minutes earlier.

She mentally noted to look for her sister when she was done utilizing the mistletoe she'd hung in the piano room especially for herself. She could only face that horrible Susan Derrick with her by her side.

She opened the door slowly, not noticing the creak the hinges squeaked out as her ears were drawn to the sound of two voices howling at each other.

Her sister and her own boyfriend were not just bickering, but arguing. Rachel was grateful the Christmas carols were floating from the speakers loud enough that they wouldn't be heard in the next room.

She stood for half a minute, trying to process the scene in front of her. They were shouting about…hurting someone? A girl?

She wanted to run in between them and scream at them both, demanding they cease immediately and go back to how they were before – when they were indifferent towards each other.

So much for her "_Have you seen Sam?_"

Rachel shook her head, very much flabbergasted and confused.

"Guys?" she projected over their shouts, still uncertain the scene was real.

It took a millisecond for their eyes to meet hers. It kind of freaked her out.

And then they were spitting panicked words at her, arms flailing in her direction, like they were physically trying to protect her from their previous actions.

"Rach, it's—"

"We were just—"

Max's and Alec's simultaneous attempts to explain the situation were in vain.

The raven-haired transgenic was still reeling from everything that had just occurred that the guilt hadn't set in – just a sick, yet almost comfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her things were changing.

Rachel cut them off again. "There's a party going on out there, so I'll ask for both of you to tell me what's going on. Very quickly. And then we'll go back out there and we will not ruin my father's party, because he deserves it to be a hit, okay?"

She commandeered the situation, yet her voice was soft, unsure. She wasn't angry – and the transgenics knew she should've been, but it was their fault she was ignorant, not hers – she was just concerned about her father there and then. It made Alec's heart yearn for hers a little more. This was why he loved her.

The role reversal was unfamiliar, but the two transgenics couldn't fight the nod that bobbed their heads up and down. Despite being supposed rebel soldiers, they _were_ designed to take orders. And Rachel had given hers. The irony gnawed at the back of Max's mind, tugging at the part of her that found amusement in these trivialities.

"Yes, ma'am," Alec murmured, unsure which reflex was responsible for the reply – the soldier or the joker in him. He considered the latter, feeling the smirk pull at his lips.

Max closed her eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache clench her temples in a dull pain. She was, after all, used to years of piano playing and swimming and books and being the only teenager in existence who didn't have to go to school. When did her life turn upside-down again? That's right, when she was genetically engineered.

Before she could change her mind, she did it. She spoke the truth. Being in Seattle had made Max realise she loved the truth – the simplicity it brought. And Max had always craved simplicity more than anything else. Seattle allowed her to finally be Max, and remember why "Sam" had always felt like a misname.

"Rach, remember when I had my first seizure here? And for the next week, I couldn't stop having nightmares?" she spoke, keeping her eyes closed.

Alec swallowed past not only the memories of _his_ first seizures and nightmares, but the pain that flowed into him upon hearing of his Max's own anguish. How he'd spent years wishing he could've been there to comfort her. Naturally, the Smart Alec Defense Mechanism kicked in. "Max," he growled softly through one side of his mouth. "She said _quickly_. Very quickly?" he teased.

Max ignored him and his stupid mention of the wrong name in front of her sister, and instead focused on Rachel's steady nod.

"I told you about the orphanage," – her lips struggled around the lie – "I grew up in."

Alec watched the exchange between the two sisters carefully. There was so much he was seeing and even more he wasn't seeing. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea that the two most important people in his whole life were even closer to each other than they were to him, when he'd been under the impression they'd never met just days ago.

"And I told you about Alec," Max finished, releasing a long breath and finally opened her eyes in time to see Alec's and Rachel's eyes both widen.

"I… I'm sorry to do this," Max started after another beat. "But we – I have just come to the conclusion that Ben…is Alec."

Alec tore his eyes away from Max, wanting to hurt her for what she was doing. Fighting his instincts was hard, so he just clenched his fists and stared at the door.

Max, on the other hand, was fighting back tears. Her eyes filled with them before she could try to prepare herself accordingly. Plus, her headache was getting worse, despite her unusually high pain threshold.

"Oh," was all Rachel said. She wasn't as good at hiding her emotions, Alec noted as his eyes carefully came back to her, watching her go over everything – he could almost see her thought processes – but he also saw a strength that was a little too Manticore. Max. She had certainly been rubbing off on the younger girl.

Oh, how that thought scared him.

Rachel's eyelashes slowly guided her eyes up to meet Alec's. He looked pissed and then it was all lost to sadness. He saw the hurt in Rachel's eyes.

She blinked it all back, inhaling calmly before putting her hand out. "Well, _Alec_, we have a party out there that's waiting for us. _Max_, Susan Derrick is waiting for you."

A sob tore through Max's chest.

Alec stepped forward and wrapped Rachel's smaller hand in his, letting her take him back to the naïve outside world.

Max sobbed for a long while, eyes never leaving the door Alec shut behind them, before she left the piano room in search of Susan Derrick.

The older woman openly scrutinized Max's appearance with her gaze, but even she couldn't spot it. The well-hidden pain behind the Manticore mask.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Thank you so much for coming," Max gushed to the party's last guests.

"And have a merry, merry Christmas," Rachel added.

The two were in synch as their act played on and their smiles brightened slightly.

The grand door shut, effectively barricading the horde of guests out. As it clicked into place, their smiles dropped and Rachel trotted off to the kitchen, leaving Max with her fingers still wrapped around the door's handle.

She breathed in and let go of the door, following her younger sister into the other room.

Robert inclined his head downwards to let his eyes look up at his daughter affectionately, almost in admiration. "Thank you, girls. It wouldn't have been so successful without you."

"Our pleasure," Max replied quietly.

He tugged at his tie, pulling it undone. "I think I might take another shower. I've been standing up too long."

"Hot water works wonders," Max commented.

Rachel nodded in slight agreement.

"Definitely," he, too, agreed. He kissed his daughters' heads and shook Alec's hand before heading up the stairs.

Falling into synch all over again, the sound of Robert's Italian-made shoes tapping against the tile of the bottom step of the stair and climbing their way up instantaneously saw Max's and Rachel's expressions become devoid of any emotion.

"Don't try to open it," Rachel warned before she followed her father upstairs, tracing the route to her bedroom though.

Max winced as she watched Rachel's back disappear. "The closed door," she murmured.

"And I'm on the outside, too," Alec added, following perfectly. He sat down at the counter and let his head fall into his hands. "What the flaming Manticore have I done?"

"You _could_ just say 'hell'," Max joked.

"Be serious."

"'Be serious'?" she repeated. "What do you want me to say? 'Damn, not again'?"

"Well, if it's happened before then sure," he retorted.

Her eyes widened, before closing. She lifted her hand up and ran her fingers through her hair. "Damn, not again."

Alec frowned.

Max shook her head and turned to walk away. Opting not to watch another Berrisford storm out, the blonde dropped his head onto his arms this time, closing his eyes in search of calmness.

He didn't see her turn back, but heard her shoes clink as they strode her to the seat across from him. His head came back up.

"I screw everything up," he said simply. He hissed as he sucked in a breath. "Max, if I have to choose between the two of you, I choose _her_. I can't hurt her. I love her."

At her side, her hands clenched into fists slowly. What was he implying? Of course she didn't want Rachel to be hurt. Of course he loved her.

"I know. I'm meant to protect her," she ground out.

Alec chose not to say anything that might make matters worse. He just tapped his fingers on the counter worriedly.

"But I never do," she finished.

Alec's fingers stilled. "Maybe it's in our DNA."

"The screw-up gene?"

"At the expense of the world's wonderful people like Rachel."

"Isn't it ironic though? We're meant to be the wonderful ones," she mused.

"But we're more flawed than they are," he finished for her.

"Exactly," she said, nodding. She was finally showing some emotion.

"I feel the need to protect her, too. She's…special. Unlike any other human girl I've met." He seemed to be marvelling.

"Robert raised her well." Max's fingers found the side of her dress, carefully tracing the hidden stitching. "She just trusts in people. She _believes_. In everything. The gods. Love. Fate. Karma. The good in people."

"We haven't lost her, you know."

"Not yet, no. You still have a chance."

"Max…"

"You should go. Either go home or go help her. Just…away from me."

He obeyed, strolling out of the room.

Max remained still for a minute after his exit, and then mimicked Alec's earlier action and dropped her head onto her forearms.

She wanted to cry, but she couldn't find enough pity for herself to make the tears come.

After an uncertain amount of time, Robert found Max in that same position when he came into the kitchen. He looked at her carefully, then turned to the fridge and took out a tall bottle of water.

He poured the liquid, and then lifted the glass to let the fluid slide down his throat. "Water's very cold."

"Refrigerator must be working then," she bit back in bored monotone.

"Sam…" he scorned softly.

Her head came up to meet his gaze.

"What happened?" he asked simply.

"Mind if I asked what tipped you off?"

He chortled. "You're still in your dress – three hours after everyone left."

Max looked down. "Right," she said.

"Plus, Rachel basically told me to piss off and leave her alone."

Max shook her head, smiling bitterly at his bluntness. "Worry not. You're not alone."

He sat down across from her, where Alec had positioned himself some time earlier. "I'll ask again?"

Max breathed in and closed her eyes, grinning despite herself. "I was trying to dodge it, Dad."

"Of course you were," he retorted. "You're you."

Her eyes flicked open. "And…?"

"Mysterious and always in denial." He sipped at the water slowly.

Max sighed.

He interjected, covering himself, "But I wouldn't have you any other way?"

She grinned slightly again. "Good." Her fingers crawled the counter to start drumming the surface, much like the other transgenic had earlier. She'd memorised his rhythm and subconsciously copied it.

"Rachel's been pushed out of the loop," she explained. "I…" She looked up at him. "You won't believe me."

"Try me."

Her lips pursed, she continued. "Ben went by the name Alec when I knew him."

She sought his gaze again, checking.

"Alec?" he repeated. "I haven't heard that name in years."

She smiled. "Yeah."

"So, Sam, you're saying…" His voice went huskier as he became more unsure. "Ben is your childhood friend, whose name roused me from my sleep for years as you screamed to him?"

"Something like that," she murmured.

He winked cheekily. "And you said I wouldn't believe you."

"Don't you won't to…say something else?"

"Would you prefer I yelled at you? You didn't do anything wrong."

An image of lip pressing together flashed through her mind. "Then why does it feel like I did?" Her eyes gained a glossy, faraway look.

"It would be much harder for Rachel. She's a mere seventeen. Her sweetheart and her best friend have accidentally deceived her."

"It's still deception."

"No, it isn't. And she's your sister, Sammy. She'll come around. She just needs to let it sink in."

A thought told Max otherwise, but she didn't push it. "Okay."

"So, tell me about you and Ben when you were younger."

"Oh. Um, we were in a close group, but only became friends when…"

----------------------------------------------------------------

Alec had been staring at the door for a ridiculously long amount of time. He kept hoping the handle would turn and she'd open the door to let him in. It just didn't feel right to him if it played out any other way.

Then something in him clicked and his courage came back. His knuckles rapped on the door. Two knocks, not demanding but strong enough.

He nodded to himself in reassurance.

After a minute of deafening silence, he knocked again and spoke, one tier above a whisper. "Rachel."

The sound of footsteps made his heart beat a little faster. Then the handle turned and he felt like the organ might explode in relief.

He smiled at her and gathered her in his arms. In response, she gently (in comparison) placed her arms around him and breathed him in. They both knew quite well that she loved his scent.

He kissed her hair and pulled back to close the door behind them.

She was too cautious to speak, so she sat on her bed and just waited.

He was too nervous to speak, so he sat opposite her and just waited.

The staring game between them ended when his courage returned. "Go ahead."

"Why'd you lie to me? Was it to get to her?" she asked quietly.

"What? Rachel, no," he defended.

"Then what?" she whispered.

He moved to kneel before her. "I didn't know who she was till I saw her. And how could I not recognise her? We've been separated for a long time, Rachel. She was my best friend."

"So I've heard."

"I had just told her who I was in the piano room," – other memories assaulted him, but he pushed them away – "and then she got really worked up. I think the guilt affected her and she started to blame me. Knowing her, she was probably blaming herself, too. You mean everything to the both of us, Rach – believe me."

_I want to, but I can't_ tingled on her tongue. "Okay. I do," she said easily.

He wrapped his arms around her again. "Good. I'm glad. We'll be fine."

Questions in her mind overwhelming her, she steered to a different subject. "So how hilarious was Sandy Queller?"

**&&**

Do I need to remind you to press that button? It doesn't take that long.


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